


Gwyrdd Arwar - Book The Second

by inspiritedmama



Series: Gwyrdd Arwar [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dumbledore Bashing, Everyone Lives Except Voldy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Slytherins, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Mentor Severus Snape, Mentor Snape, Remus Lupin Lives, Severus Snape Lives, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Build, Slytherin Harry, Teacher-Student Relationship, Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 46,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspiritedmama/pseuds/inspiritedmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-- This book is a continuation of my universe in which Harry is sorted into Slytherin. The major plot points remain the same for the most part, but have been altered through the eyes of Harry being surrounded by snakes, not lions.</p><p>-- While this book is tagged Snape/Harry please note there is no relationship beyond that of a mentor between them in this book. I have no interest in writing a majorly underage student/teacher fic :)</p><p>Weee! Here we go on book two! To those who haven't read the first book in the series: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3174698 I suggest you do. The world in this series is technically AU, but more along the lines of Canon-Divergent.</p><p>To all those that read along as I was writing the first book and are here reading the second, thank you! </p><p>Thank you everyone who takes the time to read, write comments, or leave kudos on my fic. I can't tell you what that means to me <3</p><p>~This fic is a gift for my sister Chewbecca and my bestie StarlightWolf~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One With the Worst Birthday Ever

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was written on a small screen while camping, so please forgive any errors that I wasn't able to proofread out. It's really hard on a teeny screen! When I get back I plan to go through what I wrote and tidy it up if needbe.
> 
> As always, enjoy :D

To look at Number Four Privet Drive from the outside, it looked exactly like all the rest of the houses on the street. A single car in the carport, a perfectly manicured lawn, flanked by exquisitely cared for gardens. It was Normal, and if you asked any of its inhabitants, save one, if anything Not Normal ever happened there, they would deny it to their dying breath.

Except this morning, as yet another row broke out over breakfast, concerning a loud hooting that had woken up Vernon Dursley from a sound sleep at about quarter to three in the morning. 

"If you cannot control that ruddy owl, it will have to go!"

Harry stood at the stove, cooking up a second pound of bacon and another dozen eggs and sighed as he tried to explain, "She's not supposed to be locked in her cage this long. If you'd just let me let her out - 

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" As Harry looked at Uncle Vernon, his blotchy face redder than normal, with bacon grease smeared around his mouth and egg yolk dripped down his shirt, it took everything in him not to reply that yes, in fact, he did look rather like an idiot. "I know precisely what will happen if you let it out of that cage."

Instead of being able to argue his case, Harry was interrupted by a rather loud and rude sound from his cousin. "More bacon," he groused, shovelling the last bit into his mouth.

"In a moment Duddy-kins, Harry's nearly done frying it up." Petunia scowled at Harry as though daring him to contradict her before turning large eyes on her son and tearing up just a little. "I've got to make sure you can eat while you've the chance. I don't know what the school feeds you all year."

Dudley turned to Harry, "Pass the frying pan."

"You forgot the magic word," Harry snapped, the morning's argument getting to him. 

The resulting effect of that innocuous sentence on the three people sat around the table that morning was comical. Dudley screamed, his hand covering his behind where last year at about this time a large wizard had cursed him with a pig's tail. Petunia practically fainted dead away, slumping over the table. And Vernon lept to his feet, his large stomach knocking the table over, and the vein in his forehead throbbing to a truly disturbing size.

"HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT THAT RUBBISH IN OUR HOUSE! HOW DARE YOU THREATEN OUR SON, UNDER OUR ROOF, WHEN WE'VE BEEN KIND ENOUGH TO TAKE CARE OF YOU!" His face was an alarming shade of purple as he spit all over the remains of the table.

"I WILL NOT ABIDE BY ANY MENTION OF YOUR, YOUR... ABNORMALITY IN MY HOUSE!"

Harry threw up his hands in surrender, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I meant please!" Vernon huffed and sat down in his chair with a heavy thud.

It had been this way since he'd returned home from school at the beginning of the summer. They had been just watching, waiting for him to explode and do something, Strange.

Because unlike what the house might look like from the street, or what Harry may look like at first glance; Harry was Not Normal. The school that he had returned from was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he, Harry Potter, was a wizard.

The moment he had returned from school his Uncle had taken his trunk - containing all his spellbooks, robes, and especially his wand - and locked them away in the cupboard under the stairs that had, until last year, been Harry's bedroom. They had done what they could to drive the magic out of him. He'd been up at four in the morning every day to make breakfast for Uncle Vernon before work, and then spent his day cleaning the house.

"Now, today is a very special day." Vernon began once Harry had set the table to right and served up the next pound of bacon and a fresh pan of scrambled eggs.

Harry blinked, today was his twelfth birthday. Something that had been ignored every year up until now.

"Today is the day that I take my career to the next level." Fortunately he missed Harry rolling his eyes. "The Masons are coming to dinner." He went on to go through the schedule for the evening, until his beady eyes fixed visciously on Harry. "And you..."

"I am going to stay upstairs, in my room, and make absolutely no sound so that you can pretend that I don't exist."

Vernon ignored his tone and nodded, "Exactly. It all goes well and we'll be looking for vacation homes this time tomorrow."

It was difficult for Harry to care much one way or the other. Even on vacation he couldn't imagine that the Dursley's would like him much, and odds are it wouldn't be much of a vacation for him anyway. When Harry had finished cleaning up from breakfast he managed to slip out of the house before Petunia could assign him any more chores.

He flumped on the bench and tried very hard not to feel sorry for himself. Here it was, his birthday, and he had no cards, no cake, no friends, no one who wanted him. Despite the fact that they'd sworn to write him, he'd not received a single letter from either Draco or Pansy. He knew they might be busy with their holidays. But... to forget even his birthday? 

The thought made him feel more alone than he ever had in his life. It wasn't that this birthday was any different than any of his others - it wasn't. It was that he had hoped that it would be different, and it wasn't. He was trapped, cut off from all things magical, and it hurt. He missed Hogwarts so much he couldn't breathe. Even if the year had ended with him facing off against Voldemort. It was still the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world.

But as the weeks dragged on, with no magical contact whatsoever, he started to wonder if maybe he'd been making the entire thing up. Was it just a dream he created to deal with the horrible boarding school the Dursley's had sent them to? Only the presence of Hedwig, looking at him with large, sad eyes in her padlocked cage, kept him believing that he was, in fact a wizard. 

"I know what today is~" Dudley's voice came around the corner in a taunting singsong. Harry ignored him as he waddled closer. "Today's your birthday. Except no cards, no cakes, no friends for poor rotter Potter. Did no one at that freaky school of yours like you? Maybe it's not such a bad place after all?"

Harry growled, "Best not let your mum hear you saying that."

Dudley just waddled closer, his piggish face grinning menacingly at him. Harry lifted his hand and began to wiggle his fingers, muttering under his breath. Dudley nearly fell over in his mad dash to get away. 

"MUM! HE'S DOING YOU KNOW WHAT... IN THE GARDEN!"

Harry ducked as he heard the kitchen door open, a freshly washed pot narrowly missed his head.

"Harry Potter! You come here this instant." Petunia's voice was irate. She set him to work scrubbing the tiles with a toothbrush, and the promise that he would not have a scrap of food for a week.

He spent the rest of the day cleaning, pruning, washing, and shining, under her watchful gaze. Dudley lounged around, eating icies, and dripping chocolate on the freshly washed tiles.

Petunia ushered him inside, the kitchen smelled delicious and reminded Harry with a pang of the feasts at Hogwarts. She ignored his hungry gaze and directed him to step only on the newspapers that formed a path up to his bedroom. Vernon's face, freshly scrubbed and looking strangled by the tie he wore with his dinner jacket, peered up the stairs.

"One sound, boy..." he let the threat hang in the air.

Harry wondered, what precisely Uncle Vernon would do. He was forever threatening, but other than lock him in his room and starve him, things they had been doing as long as he could remember, they had done little else. As it would happen, Harry wasn't about to discover exactly what Vernon would do when pressed.

Because when Harry went to flop down on the bed, he discovered there was already something there. The creature had large eyes and even larger bat-like ears. But the strangest thing about it, other than everything, was that it was dressed in what appeared to be a ratty teatowel, tied together at the shoulders. 

When it spotted Harry it bowed low, "Harry Potter!" it squeaked, its nose pressed against the carpet. "Dobby has been wanting to meet you... 

"Ermmm... thank you?" Harry eyed the creature with suspicion and sat down on the corner of his desk, next to Hedwig. "Wha- Who are you?"

"Dobby!" it squeaked, bowing again. "Dobby is a house elf."

Harry tipped his head, "Look, I'm sure you're very nice. But I need to be quiet. Is there any- why are you here?" He cast a worried look towards the door as he heard Petunia's thin, reedy laugh. "Now's not exactly a good time."

"Dobby isn't sure. That is to say, it's rather... difficult." He began, fretting his hands.

As the voices downstairs continued Harry allowed himself a breath, perhaps he could quickly take care of whatever his house elf wanted without getting in trouble?

"You see, Dobby heard, that Harry Potter triumphed over He Who Must Not Be Named yet again. And now Dobby is protecting Harry Potter. To tell him that he should not go back to Hogwarts."

"Not go back to Hogwarts?!" Harry clapped his hand over his mouth, desperately hoping that they hadn't heard him downstairs. He continued more softly. "Hogwarts is my home, not this awful place."

"Harry Potter must not. If he does, his life will be in grave peril!" 

Harry shook his head, "I have to to go back. That's where all of my friends are!"

"Friends who don't write?"

"I'm sure they-" his eyes narrowed. "How do you know that they haven't written to me?"

Dobby hopped around anxiously. "You must not be angry, Dobby was only trying to save Harry Potter." He edged towards the door and before Harry could stop him he was out the door.

"Dobby no!" Harry whisper-yelled as he rushed down the hall. The house elf was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, he arms in the air. For a sickening moment Harry thought that Vernon had seen him, and then his stomach dropped as he realized it was worse. Floating about the Masons' heads was the three-tiered cake that Petunia had made for dessert.

"Harry Potter must NOT go back to Hogwarts!" 

He watched with horror as Dobby snapped his fingers. The cake fell with a giant crash at the same moment the house elf disappeared, and he was left standing there with an expression of shock etched across his features.

Harry sat on his bed. Outside his window Vernon was bolting the last pieces of the bars he'd spent the evening installing after the Masons had hurried out of the house.

"You're not going ANYWHERE!" he sneered. "NOT EVER AGAIN!"

He hardly even noticed. In his shaking hands he held a letter. When the large barn owl had swooped into the chaos that was the cake-incident, Harry had for one moment allowed himself to hope that finally, just finally, he was receiving a birthday letter from his friends. It was not a birthday note.

It was instead, an official letter from the Ministry of Magic informing him that a violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery had been registered at his location. And if any further breaches were recorded he would be at risk for expulsion from Hogwarts.

Vernon had taken that as final permission to do whatever he wished to Harry, and had set about immediately insuring that he would never be able to do to that "school for freaks" again. Satisfied that he had successfully turned Harry's room into an inescapable prison, he'd gone inside and settled in for an evening brandy, humming happily.

Harry flopped back on his bed, "That's done it Hedwig. If I try and do magic to get us out of here, they'll expell me. But Uncle Vernon says I'm never getting out of here anyway." He folded his arms behind his head, refusing to give into the tears that were threatening to fall. This, was the worst birthday ever.


	2. The One With the Best Birthday Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the last chapter I'll be able to write while up at the lake. We're packing up tonight and leaving early tomorrow morning.
> 
> Hopefully the swing of real life crap doesn't put too much of a damper on the updates. I'll be aiming for approximately one per week. 
> 
> This chapter probably has the biggest canon-divergence to date, but I -do- plan on keeping as much as possible close to the books. I'm not trying to recreate her entire world, just play a little.

Two things happened at once. A sharp rap at the front door, past eleven o'clock which was not appropriate no matter who you were at least according to Aunt Petunia who was now screeching to Vernon that they were about to be murdered in their beds (to which Harry wondered what sort of murderer knocked?) and, for the first time since he boarded the Hogwarts Express bound for King's Cross, Harry felt a soft whisper of magic.

It was fortuitous really, that the Dursley's were making such an uproar downstairs. It meant that they did not hear the sound of the bars crashing into the flower garden underneath Harry's window. Nor did they hear the sound of breaking glass as the window shattered. And they most definitely did not hear Draco's cheerful, "Happy Birthday Harry!" as he waved to him from a broomstick hovering just outside the window.

Harry blinked and started to pinch himself before thinking better of it. If this was in fact a dream, he did not wish to wake up from it. It was not, infact, a dream. And Draco Malfoy was dismounting a broom in the middle of Harry's bedroom with a brilliant grin on his face. He advanced on the door, wand still out, and muttered, "Alohamora!" On the opposite side of the door and padlock fell away.

"We're going to get in trouble! We're not allowed to do magic outside of school." As pleased as he was to see his friend, Harry did not wish for either of them to get expelled.

"Not me, my dad." Draco raised the wand, gleaming black like his but with a silver handle, and twirled it between his fingers with a grin. "Doesn't behave quite as well, but gets the job done, mmm?" He pushed open the door, and the sounds of yelling downstairs grew infinitely louder.

They reached the top of the stairs in time to see the tall, elegant, and extraordinarily pissed off figure of Lucius Malfoy pushing his way past Vernon Dursley (no small feat) and into the entrance hall.

"I demand you leave at once!" Vernon shouted, the vein in his forehead throbbing.

Lucius ignored him, his pale silver eyes sweeping the room, and then up to the stairs. He nodded at his son and then smiled at Harry. "Good evening Mr. Potter, I believe birthday wishes are in order?"

"I umm... thank you Mr. Malfoy!" He stood awkwardly as the older wizard looked him over. No doubt taking in the broken glasses, and clothes that hung off his thin frame like flaps of extra skin. He scuffed his foot against the carpet, acutely aware of the difference in appearance between him and Draco, who stood easily next to him in neatly pressed trousers and a thin sweater.

"Would you like to spend the rest of the summer with us at Malfoy Manor?"

Harry looked from Draco to Lucius as it sunk in. They were here. In the living room. Asking him if he wanted to leave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vernon Dursley working himself up to a truly impressive explosion. "Absolutely!"

"You can't take him!" Vernon shouted. "He's staying right here. I'm putting a stop to this right now!"

Lucius just smiled, the specks of spittle that flew from Vernon as he continued to rage all seeming to miss him. Finally, as the large, fat man gasped for air, he handed over a scroll. "A signed document by the Minister for Magic himself, allowing me to take Harry into my custody for the rest of the summer." Vernon deflated , muttering something about the legality, and contacting his lawyer in the morning. The elder Malfoy seemed not to care and swept past him towards the stairs. "Draco can help you pack, don't forget your school things. We will be taking you to King's Cross at the start of term."

His eyes glanced to Uncle Vernon before Harry pushed his glasses back on his nose. "I... that is. My trunk is locked up in my old bedroom."

"Just have Draco unlock it, I will wait." He folded his arms and assumed a relaxed position at the door, seeming to have not a care in the world.

Harry looked uncomfortable as he pointed down, "Just there," he whispered to Draco. "The, uhh, the cupboard under the stairs." 

Draco danced down the stairs, wand aloft, seeming thrilled to be part of this late night adventure. As he unlocked the cupboard and swung it open, revealing the small cramped space, Lucius' eyes narrowed and his easy expression became predatory. Vernon took note and shifted away from the enraged wizard. But Lucius stood still as a statue as Draco lugged out the trunk and the broomstick. "Anything else Harry?" he called cheerfully.

"Just Hedwig," he replied and darted down the hall to his room, carrying the cage when he returned along with a backpack of Dudley's hand-me-down clothes that were all Vernon and Petunia had provided for him. Lucius took the wand from Draco as Harry descended the stairs and tapped the padlock. With a puff of smoke it fell off with a thud. Harry reached around and pulled open the door, ignoring Petunia's shouts about droppings on her floors. The large snowy owl dove straight for her, and she sagged in horror against the wall. She did a lap of the living room, and then flew out one of the open windows with a screech.

Lucius reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small golden charm. He passed it to Draco, who held it out for Harry. "Just put your hand on it, it will take you back to Malfoy Manor." He tapped it once with his wand, and Harry felt something pull on his stomach. Then he was nothing, whirling through the air. When the children had port-keyed away the last of the easy expression on Lucius' face fell, his sharp noble features murderous as he turned on the Dursley's. 

"Your treatment of that child has been abhorant." He pointed his wand to Vernon's throat, silencing whatever response the man had been about to bluster. "I am doing everything in my not inconsiderable power to ensure that he never darkens the steps of this house again. But if he does, rest assured that his welfare will be monitored. And if you mistreat him, no law - Muggle or Magic," at the mention of magic Petunia shrieked and Vernon's face turned a rather entertaining color of puce, "Will stop me from returning and exacting my revenge." He slid his wand back into the ebony cane and Apparated on the spot.

It was a shame, that no one saw the look on the Dursley's faces, when two house elfs appeared next to the trunks with a -crack-. Petunia fainted dead away. Just as fast as they arrived, they picked up the trunk and broomstick, and vanished with another crack.

Harry blinked. They arrived in a large room. One wall was entirely windows, at the center was one that was opened slightly, revealing a balcony. Another wall had two doors, dark wood that gleamed in the soft light of the candles which were the only illumination. The focal point of the room was a tie between a massive stone fireplace, flanked by two plush chairs that looked like the ones found in the Slytherin common room; and a giant four poster bed. Thrown across the bed was a green and silver comforter, and the top was piled with a mound of pillows that was bigger than Harry.

"Woah," he gasped before he could stop himself. He flushed brightly. He couldn't believe this was Draco's room. It looked as if the entirety of Number Four Privet Drive could fit inside of it.

Draco grinned, and took Hedwig's cage from Harry's hand, setting it on the mahogany desk that was set up against one of the large windows. "Like your room Harry?"

It is lucky that it was a calm night, and no gusts of wind came curling through the open balcony door. Because that is all it would have taken to knock Harry over. He looked around the room, stunned.

"My room's just through there," he motioned to one of the doors. "Well, technically there's a bathroom there first that we share. It's not so bad, not like at school, it'll just be the two of us. And then mine's on the other side." He walked over and threw open a massive wardrobe, a few things already hung inside. "Can put your clothes here, and there's a few outfits Dad picked up. He figured you didn't have any wizard clothes, living with Muggles and all. And Mum insists that we dress formally for dinner."

Harry's rumbling stomach interrupted his monologue.

"There's one more surprise, I'm going to go get it ready. Put your stuff away, change out of those pyjamas, and I'll come get you!" Draco practically bounced out of the room, leaving a somewhat shell-shocked Harry to look around the room. He stuffed his knapsack of too-large clothes into the bottom of the wardrobe and ran his hands along the soft fabrics. He wasn't sure exactly what to wear, but anything would be better than his current outfit. After a moment, he selected a pair of trousers and a soft white shirt. He stared at the crisp, clean fabric and hesitated a moment. He glanced at the door that lead to the bathroom and carried the bundle of clothes and slipped inside. 

Looking around at the marble and gold he sucked in a breath. It was more elaborate than the Hogwarts bathrooms by far. One corner held a tub so large he could go swimming, and the other had a huge shower with several heads. It was into the shower that he went after he'd stripped off his pyjamas. The water was perfect temperature and he quickly washed off all of the dirt and grime that clung to him. He dried off with one of the blanket-sized towels that hung between the tub and the shower, and quickly changed into his new clothes.

Draco was waiting for him when he came out of the room, stretched out on his bed kicking his feet. "You look like a proper wizard! Now c'mon. There's only fifteen minutes of your birthday left." He sprung off the bed, grabbed Harry's hand, and led him out of the room and through the maze of halls. Harry tried to keep track of where they were going, but after the second set of twisting stairs he gave up. They slowed as they approached a large French door. Draco bounced on his heels as he stood beside it and grinned at Harry before pushing it open.

Inside was a dining table to rival the ones in the Great Hall at Hogwarts for size. Like the Hogwarts tables it was heavily ladened with food. And in the center, sat a massive chocolate cake with the words "Happy Birthday Harry" dancing above it with sparkles. Lucius stood beside it, smiling warmly and handed both Draco and Harry plates.

The boys wasted no time in piling their plates high with food, and sitting at a corner of the table eating as only almost teenage boys can. Lucius pulled up a chair beside his son, a cup of tea in his hand, and spoke softly, his voice heavy with regret.

"Forgive me Harry, for not coming to take you from there sooner. You are carefully watched, and I were to show up at your Aunt and Uncle's unannounced it would have been... difficult. Although if Draco here had his way we'd have been there much sooner. He was quite worried when you were not answering any of your friends' letters. But now we've gone through proper channels and you have permission to stay with us for the rest of the summer." He raised a hand, "No, we do not need to discuss it further tonight. Enjoy the treats, have a good rest. There will be time enough later."

They stayed up all night. First stuffing themselves silly in the dining room, and then heading back to Harry's bedroom with a large slice of cake and steaming mug of Butterbeer each. In the morning, Lucius found them sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire, a half-finished game of chess between them. He smiled, although it faltered a little when he saw how thin Harry looked compared to Draco. The rage at the relatives who had been tasked with caring for him threatening to resurface.

Snape had been waiting for his Floo-Call. The Potions Master was sat comfortably in front of his fire, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands.

"He's upstairs, asleep," Lucius reported, seated similarly with a cup of tea in his office, Snape's head floating above the green flames in the fireplace.

"The aunt and uncle?"

"Beyond disgusting. I have not seen any signs of physical abuse, although I don't doubt them capable. But he is starved, for attention and for food."

Snape growled in the back of his throat. Too much of the boy's appearance and small mannerisms reminded him of himself at that age. And he was all too familiar with the cause. "And the Ministry?"

"Finally signed off on it. For a visit this summer at least. I am going to talk with Harry before I pursue a more permanent arrangement. Too much has already been done without his consent. I would at least keep him apprised." Severus nodded his approval. "It will not be easy. Fudge insinuated at least one powerful member of the Wizengamot was very against it."

"Dumbledore," there was no question or uncertainty in Snape's tone.

"You're certain?"

"Fairly. He is scheming, in the way that only old wizards with far too much knowledge can."

Lucius nodded and took a long sip of his tea. "Merlin only knows what the old fool is planning."

"I am afraid I have far too clear an idea." When the image of Lucius' head arched an eyebrow Severus continued. "He will use Harry as bait, at the very least. Put him in situations where it will draw the Dark Lord out of hiding. Force him into confrontation. He has bested him twice now, Dumbledore will only continue. Until the Dark Lord is vanquished for good, or Harry is dead."

There was little else to say. Lucius closed the Floo connection and sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love your comments and kudos, they totally make my day <3
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. The One With The Party And The Kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray! Another chapter :D Some more Snarry feels for ya, hopefully age-appropriate given Harry's just turned twelve. But I always love me some good Mentor!Snape so there it is.
> 
> There's some minor references to child-abuse, nothing graphic whatsoever and it's all past-stuff. But wanted to mention it, just in case. For those looking for Lucius and Snape to just swoop in and "magically" make it all better, sorry but that's not where I'm going. Things will be different for my Harry, than the Harry in the books, but it's not going to be easy. What is story-telling without conflict, mmm?

Upstairs, Draco and Harry were waking up slowly. It took Harry a minute to figure out where he was, and then it floated up through his consciousness. The Malfoys had come to fetch him, he was in his room at Malfoy Manor. He let Draco lead him down to breakfast, the dining room had been cleaned from their midnight snack feast and one corner of the table was now covered in what looked like a waffle station. Thick drapes had been pulled back revealing an expansive estate, and the almost afternoon sun streamed through softly.

They had just settled in, their waffles more dessert than breakfast, when Lucius appeared. "Good morning boys," he walked over to where to Draco was seated and pressed a fond kiss to the top of the blond hair. He smiled at Harry. 

"Harry, we've taken the liberty of arranging a birthday party for you this evening. Originally it was supposed to be last night, on your birthday-proper. But difficulties with the Ministry..." his face darkened for a moment before he continued. "Well, it is tonight, pending your permission of course. We've invited your house-mates, and Professor Snape will be there as well. I hope that meets your approval?"

Draco looked at him hopefully, and Harry nodded, although his mind was racing. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy!"

"Think nothing of it Harry, a birthday is a thing to be celebrated with friends."

The day passed in a blur of party preparations. The house and gardens were strung with lights and the large banquet hall was aired out, then decorated in silver and green. Several times throughout the day he caught sight of a tall blond woman ordering house elves and ghost servants about. He assumed it was Draco's mother, but each time they got close Draco steered them another direction.

As the sun began to set Draco led them back up their rooms to change. He pulled out a pair of forest green robes from the wardrobe. It took him several tries to fasten the silver clasps, but as he nervously smoothed the front and looked at himself in the mirror he was cautiously pleased with the result. No manner of flattening his palms against his hair would tame it, and his face was pale. But, he smiled, he was having a birthday party!

Draco knocked on the door joining their rooms, and then bounced in without waiting for an answer. He was wearing robes identical to Harry's, but a deep blue instead. "Oh! You figured it out, it took me ages the first time, I had to get one of the ghosts to help." He wrapped Harry in a hug and then grinned, "C'mon, this is going to be awesome!"

He dragged Harry through the house, chattering excitedly, and then pulled up short when they reached a landing above a large room. "Woah!"

Harry wasn't entirely certain what he expected of a birthday party thrown for him by the Malfoys. But the sea of well-dressed witches and wizards mingling in the ball room, sipping various drinks, while waitstaff circulated with trays of food and drinks was not it. 

"Are you sure this is the right room?" he hissed to Draco. The other boy wasn't given a chance to respond, because at that moment Lucius and the tall woman Harry had seen earlier appeared. Lucius looked nothing like Harry remembered. He was dressed in crisp, black robes, and he carried a cane under one arm. His face, normally smiling at least a little, was drawn into a carefully bored expression. The woman on his free arm was equally striking in a black gown, her blond hair swept up in an elegant updo. Her expression was cold, hard, and did not soften an inch as she bent to "air kiss" Draco on the cheek.

"Hello Mother, Father," Draco bowed, his face a miniature version of his father's.

"Harry! It is about time you arrived, there are so many people who have been dying to meet you!" Narcissa Malfoy untangled herself from her husband and wrapped her thin bony arm through Harry's, pulling him down the steps. "First you were hidden away at that school, and then no one could find you at your relatives. But you're here now!" She paused at the bottom of the stairs and pulled him to her side, posing for the photographer who had clearly been waiting. "Front page! I'm sure of it. I mean, what news could be bigger than the Boy Who Lived having a party?"

He lost track of all the people she introduced him to. Although a few stood out. Tall, dark men named McNair and Yaxley sent shivers down his spine. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was truly not much better. He fawned over Harry, and told him to "pop round for a cuppa" any time he wished. All of the people, each more false than the last, were beginning to get to him. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his robes and wished he knew of a way to gracefully escape, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Ahh Narcissa, it is lovely to see you again." Severus Snape's voice was smooth as silk as he glided across the short distance between them and pressed a kiss to the back of her offered hand. He brushed his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and gave Harry a quick smile before he stood. "Might I borrow young Harry for a moment?"

"Of course Severus darling," she stepped forward and flashed him a bright smile.

It appeared she was going to say more, but Severus put his arm around Harry's shoulder and whisked him away. "Revolting woman," he muttered under his breath and then looked sharply at Harry, "Do -not- tell anyone I said that."

He nodded, secretly agreeing with his assessment of Draco's mother. They exited the ball room and stepped out into the gardens. He breathed a sigh of relief as a gust of cool air washed over him and chuckled a little as he realized his sigh of relief was echoed by Severus, who was also loosening his collar.

"Harry," Severus' voice was quiet, but intense. "Do you trust me enough to Apparate with me?" He carefully kept his eyes away from the young boy, not wanting to pressure him into agreeing.

Harry considered it. Finding out that the professor who had taken him under his wing had once in his life served the man who had killed his parents - and tried to kill him - was a painful blow. But he remembered the look in Severus' eyes as he vowed that it was a young man's mistake, and that he was working against Voldemort now. He glanced around the gardens, largely unoccupied, but lit softly with small globes of light that hovered just off the paths, and sensed that this was an important decision. "Yes, I do." 

Severus looked relieved as he held out his hand for Harry to take. The moment he took it, everything disappeared.

They reappeared in a library, not quite as grand as that at Hogwarts, but it had an air to it. In the corners were large plush chairs with gleaming wooden side-tables. One of these tables had stacks of books on it, the titles of the leather tomes too faded for him to make out as he looked around the room, confused.

"My home," Severus offered. "Forgive me Harry, I know tonight was your birthday party. But I needed to speak with you, and the party was a perfect diversion."

"I don't mind, Professor. The party was..."

"Not what you expected?" Severus supplied with a laugh. "No, I imagine Narcissa's tastes are not quite your own. Have no fear, your friends have assembled in another room of the Manor, and it is there that I will take you when we return."

Harry nodded and allowed himself a light smile before taking the chair Severus gestured to. Instead of taking the seat next to him, the Potions Master turned to a sideboard and poured two hot cups of tea. The aroma of exotic spices filled the air, and Harry felt some of his tension fading away, even before he was handed a cup. He balanced the cup and saucer on his lap, waiting for it to cool a little. When he took a sip he was pleased to find it sweetened exactly how he preferred. Severus smiled fractionally at the younger boy's surprised look and sat next to him.

The tall man stretched his legs; his cup and sauce shaking slightly, and Harry realized with a shock that he looked nervous. He cleared his throat, "I am not one to mince words, and I hope you will do me the courtesy of answering truthfully. Do your relatives mistreat you?"

Afterwards, when he was telling Draco about the conversation, he would ponder that it was a miracle he didn't drop the full teacup all over Professor Snape's dark hardwood floors. As it was, he barely avoided tipping the cup, on the way to his mouth, all over his dress robes.

"They," he hesitated. Once before, when he was in primary school, the teacher had asked him that. It was the first time a teacher had ever noticed him, encouraged him. Mrs Morgan had noticed his lunches, plain toast and weak tea, and the many occasions where he'd gone to school without lunch at all. Once, after he was on his third day without food, he'd fainted in the middle of a spelling bee. That was when she'd asked about his relatives, and Harry had told her. Told her about the closet, the chores, and the lack of food.

Uncle Vernon had been furious when she'd shown up at Number Four Privet Drive after school with Harry in tow. But he'd contained it well. Simpering and going on about what a little rascal Harry was, and his active imagination. How could such lovely, normal people mistreat their nephew? The small boy they'd taken in out of the goodness of their own hearts, raised him alongside their own son. Mrs Morgan believed them. 

People always believed other "respectable" folks Harry had come to discover. Uncle Vernon with his important job at a factory, wearing a suit every day to work; and Aunt Petunia with her floral print dresses and string of pearls. 

He took a sip of his tea, stalling for time, and studied the sharp, pale features of the man sat next to him. Last year, he hadn't trusted Severus. Or rather he had, until he discovered that in the man's past he'd served the evil wizard that was responsible for murdering Harry's parents. But, the simple truth was, Harry did trust him.

"They're awful." He wasn't sure what else to say, thankfully Severus began to gently ask him questions. Slowly the story unravelled. When he reached the parts about his Hogwarts letter being addressed to 'the Cupboard Under The Stairs' and how Hagrid had to come deliver it personally to the rock Vernon had taken them in an attempt to flee, his dark eyes burned with anger, his expression cold. 

Finally, as Harry ended with telling of Lucius and Draco's arrival Severus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. For a long time he did not move, and Harry sat nervously, sipping on the last dregs of his tea. When he opened them, all traces of emotion had been removed from his face. "Thank you, for telling me Harry. I just have one final question." At Harry's nod he continued, "If it were possible for you to live somewhere else, would you be agreeable?"

Harry didn't have to think twice, "Yes, I would rather live almost anywhere than have to go back to the Dursley's." 

A small flicker of sadness crossed Severus' face. "I understand, I felt the same way growing up. Far too often. We will do what we can, Lucius and I. But understand, the final decision is not in our hand, and there are... factors, working against us." He looked as though he wished to say more, but the large clock in the corner chimed the hour and he sighed, setting his now empty cup and sauce on the side table. "We should be returning to Malfoy Manor. No doubt your absence as been noted, and we do not wish anyone to think that Lucuis is an unsuitable guardian."

He stood, and withdrew a wrapped package from his robes. "I know it has been a difficult evening for you. But happy birthday all the same Harry. You may open it now," he added as he handed it to the surprised looking boy.

Wasting no time digging into the bright green wrapping paper, Harry tore it aside and revealed a leatherbound tome. Potions and Herbs: A Comprehensive Guide read the gold embossed letters across the front.

"If you wish, when school resumes, we could..."

Harry beamed, hugging the book to his chest, "Extra lessons? Really?"

Severus nodded, and wrapped and awkward arm around Harry as he lurched out of his chair and hugged the tall lanky man. Instead of pushing him away, he looked down, "Ready?" After Harry nodded his spun on the spot, Apparating them back to Malfoy Manor with a crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for the comments. They're truly lovely, and make me smile :D Knowing this story is read and enjoyed make all the frustrating moments of writer's block worth it!


	4. The One With the Real Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH, this chapter is short, I am sorry. But it's something? I had planned to get more written last weekend, but had dental surgery instead. I'll spare you the painful details and say only that it involved drilling into the jaw. Still on some pain meds for it, so I really hope this chapter makes sense. I should really get myself a beta reader or two one of these days!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, hopefully the next one will be longer!

They reappeared not in the gardens where they had left, but in Lucius' private study. It was not what Harry had expected. Most of the Manor was decorated with dark fabrics and woods. Not a spec of golden or crimson to be seen. It gave the entire house a lavish, if someone closed off feel. Even the large windows, found throughout most of the manor were edged with heavy drapes. A few of the rooms were downright oppressive. By contrast, Lucius Malfoy’s study was awash with light. It suited the man, fair skin and platinum hair, he could easily see where Draco got his coloring from. The blond wizard had clearly been waiting for them, he nodded at Severus and cast several spells in quick succession.

"With everything else vying for her attention, I would doubt my wife noticed the small disruption in the anti-Apparition wards. Harry, my son and your friends are waiting for you, the house elf will show you."

Harry could not fail to notice the difference in the elder Malfoy's tone of voice between 'my wife' and 'my son', but he wasn't given a chance to consider the implications further than a mere notice, because at that moment Dobby appeared, nervously wringing his hands, in the doorway. Neither Severus nor Lucius seemed to notice his surprise at seeing the house elf there, and shuffled him out of the room. He could hear them speaking in hushed tones even before the door was closed. He was torn, between wanting to know what they were talking about, likely what Harry had told Severus about his aunt and uncle; or finding out Dobby’s connection to Malfoy Manor. It was several moments, and they were long out of earshot, when he finally stopped in his tracks and stared at the small creature.

"Dobby, you work for the Malfoys?"

Dobby bowed his head low, glancing down the hall both ways before he spoke. "Dobby is serving the House of Black."

"Black?"

"Mistress Malfoy is the last member of the House of Black that is not being put in the wizard's prison. But if she succeeds..." he stopped, his eyes wide and he ran headlong towards the wall. He immediately began banging his head, ignoring Harry's attempts to calm him. Harry looked up and down the hall, hoping no one had heard, and then wrapped himself around the small creature, physically pulling him back from the wall. Dobby practically jumped out of the tea towel he was wearing in shock and flattened himself against the rug.

“Dobby is sorry that he is making Harry Potter have to stop him. Only Dobby was about to speak ill of his mistress, so Dobby is having to punish himself.” It was then Harry noticed the linens wrapped around his hands.

“What happened?” he interrupted Dobby’s muttering.

“Dobby had to punish himself. For warning Harry Potter about Mistress Malfoy’s plan.” His already large eyes practically burst out of his head. He wrapped his bandaged fingers around his ears and wailed, “Dobby cannot say. Dobby must not. But Harry Potter must not!”

Harry frowned, it wouldn’t be long before someone either came to see what the fuss was, or where had gotten off to. He decided to try a different tactic. "Succeeds in what?" He didn't wish to aggravate the house elf further, but it was clearly important enough to cause the strange creature to go against whatever bindings had been placed on him.

"Dobby cannot say!" he squeaked, grunting and groaning as he wrestled with himself. "Only, that Dobby wishes Harry Potter would listen to the warning and not go to Hogwarts this year!" With that, the house elf turned and walked down the hall, refusing to answer any more questions. 

After the overly formal and political nature of the party that Narcissa had thrown for him, Harry was not expecting much as Dobby threw open the door in a part of the house Harry had never been to before. Still, it was a party, for him... and the stack of presents that was next to the seven-tiered cake was impressive. The door swung open and he barely had a chance to register that what appeared to be most of the first to fourth year Slytherins were inside, when a body wrapped itself around him in a tight hug. 

The smell of sandalwood and familiar dark hair gave away Pansy, and he returned the embrace fondly. "Oh Harry I was so worried! You didn't respond to any of my letters, and then Draco said you weren't replying to his either. And I knew that even if you were snubbing me for Merlin knows whatever reason, you wouldn't be snubbing Draco too." She rambled on for several minutes, still wrapped tightly around him, much to the amusement of Draco who was leaning against a table loaded with food. When she finally released him he looked down at her and smiled, "Thank you Pansy." He noticed no one was wearing formal robes, and began undoing the clasps on his, shucking it quickly. 

"Now this, is your proper birthday party," Draco grinned, coming to his side. "Mum will be well into the Firewhiskey by now and won't notice you've given her the slip," he added in a whisper.

"And even if she does notice, who would blame her? Have you seen that party?" Pansy's tone left little doubt as to her opinion on the festivities in the grand hall.

Harry's only answer was a snort, distracted by the sight of a toilet seat nestled in with the presents, a large scarlet and gold bow fastened to the top. Draco followed his gaze and grinned. As predicted Narcissa Malfoy seemed to have no further use for Harry after she’d done the rounds with him, and other than Severus and Lucius occasionally peeking their heads in the door, the children were left to their own devices.

A wizard’s birthday party, as it turns out, is a lot like a regular birthday. Not that Harry had much experience outside of hearing the party going on outside his closet… or listening to tales of the zoo or cinema. There was cake, and candy )more of both than should possibly ever be allowed) exploding Snap, wizard’s chess, and some strange game that Harry never quite got the hang of which involved a bag of runes and a witch’s hat.

Even if Harry had had other birthday parties in his twelve years. It would be safe to say that this party beat them all. A fact that had Draco positively preening that Malfoys are, of course, the very best at everything including throwing last minute celebrations for their best friends. As the festivities wore down, Harry found himself seated in a large chair being handed presents by Draco, who shook each box and tried to guess its contents. Pansy sat on his other side with a long roll of parchment and a peacock feather quill, recording each of his gifts, for thank you notes she said when he gave her a confused look. Draco reassured him that the house elves would write the notes, and see that they were delivered. If he noticed the uncomfortable look on Harry’s face at the mention of house elves he didn’t seem to notice, and they dove into the large pile of presents.

A great majority of the gifts seemed to come from Narcissa’s guests. Politely worded cards with galleons stuffed inside, books, and journals were apparently the gifts to give a twelve year old wizard. At least according to the political set. Pansy appropriated a few of the books and journals, her payment for keeping record she said, piling them beside her with a smirk. He caught Draco stacking by his feet as well. The blond boy just shot him an impish grin and kept passing presents to open.

No one seemed to know quite what to make of the toilet seat, but Harry insisted on keeping it. Draco suggested they hang it on the wall in Harry’s room, an idea they were both quite sure the twins would approve of. Although they never revealed the giver, the toilet seat had no card, Harry made a mental note to send Fred and George a thank you letter himself.

From Gemma he received a subscription to Quidditch Weekly, Pansy got him a biography of Barberus Bragge and from Draco a series of posters of some of his favorite players, to decorate his new bedroom at Malfoy Manor. The idea that he had his own room to decorate, with posters and a toilet seat, gave him a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Just as soon as it started, he tried to tamp it down. Severus had implied there were several forces working against him being able to stay with the Malfoys. The warm feeling was quickly replaced with a stone and he swallowed thickly. Then, he remembered the look on Lucius’s face when he had appeared at the door, and Severus’ concern over his situation. The stone shrank a little, maybe… just maybe. Things would work out?

For now at least, things were as close to perfect as they could be. No amount of worry was going to change things, and with a determined tear into his next gift, a pair of Quidditch goggles from Blaise, he decided to simply enjoy the moment for as long as it lasted.

The early August sun had already begun to soften the shadows across the Malfoy Estate when the last of the guests Apparated home, leaving Harry and Draco to fall into their beds - happy and exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barberus Bragge is a cool character not ever mentioned in the books. He is the inventor of Quidditch as we know it: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Barberus_Bragge


	5. The One With a Strange Figure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being an adult is HARD! I wanted this chapter to be longer, something to celebrate dear Harry's birthday. But, at least there's a chapter?
> 
> New job, tooth pain, and adulting are kicking my ass these days. Thankfully writing's a wonderful escape. 
> 
> All your comments, kudos and appreciation for this fic really make my day. Thank all you lovelies <3

Harry and Draco largely kept out of sight of the adults over the next several days. A few times they caught a glimpse of Severus walking with Lucius in the grounds, but neither pair made an attempt to speak with the other. The boys’ day was largely filled with Quidditch. True to his word, Lucius had hired a professional to help Draco over the summer.

Aidan Lynch, a first round pick for the Ireland Quidditch team, was waiting for them as they crossed the yard to the pitch. The sun had not yet driven the mists off, and the entire estate was blanketed with an eerie silence. Harry, who'd begun to feel quite at home with Draco and Lucius, suddenly remembered the other inhabitant. Narcissa had not made an appearance since the birthday party. But as he walked across the damp grass, his eyes caught sight of a cloaked figure, watching them. He stopped dead in his tracks and let out a grunt as Draco collided with him, knocking his broomstick out of his hand. 

"Harry?" 

He picked up his broomstick and glanced back to where the cloaked figure had been standing. Now, the space between the two hedges was empty, even of fog. Rubbing his eyes he looked again, still empty. Harry turned to Draco, a sheepish grin on his face. "Thought I saw something." He’d never quite managed to make out what Draco thought of his mother. Whatever it was, it wasn’t about to tell him that the mere thought of Narcissa watching them had nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. No, there were some thoughts, he reckoned, that you didn’t even tell your best friend.

“Ye brought a friend Draco?” Aidan’s deep brogue carried across the pitch.

“Father said to adjust your rate and just owl him the bill,” Draco drawled as they pulled up in front of him.

Whatever the lean Seeker had been about to say, he stopped the moment he caught glimpse of Harry’s scar. Harry shifted his broom in his hand, flattening his hair as best he could against his forehead.

“Ahh,” continue Draco with a smirk, “No need to introduce anyone then. Right, let’s go.” He mounted his broom and pushed off a few feet from the ground. Harry and Aidan were left awkwardly staring at each other until Aidan nodded and moved to mount his own broom.

Aidan’s lessons were nothing like flying with the Slytherin team. Unlike Flint, whose idea of a practice for Harry was releasing the Snitch and making him catch it, Aidan’s lessons were focused on flying. He put both Harry and Draco through increasingly difficult maneuvers, some in tandem, and some against each other. Only when they had mastered the move were they allowed to proceed to the next - whether it took an hour, or several days. 

Each morning they met him at the pitch before the sun was fully up; only stopping when the heat reached its peak. It was glorious. 

Harry emerged from the shared bathroom, still toweling his hair, to find Severus Snape standing in the middle of his room. Dark robes were pulled around him, his arms folded, and an expression of disgust etched on his pale, sharp features. His black eyes were fixed on the toilet seat.

“Mr Potter,” his voice soft as silk, “Why is there a toilet seat hanging from your wall?”

It took a great deal of effort for Harry to suppress the giggle and answers that would have made Fred and George proud. Instead he shrugged, “It was a birthday gift, seemed rude not to display it.”

He snorted, his eyes not moving from the offending piece of ‘art’. “It’s... unsanitary.” Harry sensed the older man had a good deal more to say but he was saved the Potion Master’s ire by Draco bursting into the room.

“Harry! The owls arrived today, we’re going to Diagon Alley!” He had already changed into his robes and was practically dancing with excitement. “Hurry up!” Draco waltzed out of the room, “C’mon!” he called over his shoulder.

Harry turned to Severus who nodded. "Lucius is unable to accompany you this afternoon, I will be supervising the pair of you." His dark eyes finally left the toilet seat, "I trust you will not make me regret it?" The tone in his voice left no room for disagreement, and although he turned from the toilet seat Harry was certain it wouldn’t be the last he’d hear of it.

"Of course not Professor." Harry snatched a set of robes from the wardrobe and pulled them on quickly over his jeans and T-shirt. Severus' gaze flicked to the towel, hastily dropped on the floor and Harry quickly reversed his path to the door to pick it up and hang it on the hook. The Potions Master made a pleased sound and stalked out if the room, leaving Harry to follow. 

Draco was waiting for them at the edge of the grounds. Severus moved to his side and motioned for Harry to stand at the other. He held his hands out for the boys to take. “Ready?” he asked. Harry nodded although he wasn’t entire sure why he was standing at the edge of the estate holding hands with a Professor. The next moment it felt as though his entire body was being yanked through his navel. And then, he was nothing.

When his sense reappeared he was in a side-street, narrow, thankfully, as he stumbled to the cool brick and held himself up as his stomach threatened to reenact breakfast in reverse. He caught sight of Snape, standing completely at ease, in the center of the alley with a smirk on his thin lips. Bastard, Harry thought, although judging by the way Snape’s eyebrow quirked just slightly that thought might have slipped out just a bit. He was pleased to see Draco looking almost as green about the gills as he was. But after a few moments both boys were fine, and started to look down the street to Diagon Alley.

As they emerged from the side-street Harry realized that in all of his excitement last year, he never really got to ‘see’ Diagon Alley. His head spun around, taking in the multicolored buildings, some stacked impossibly on top of each other. The store displays were no less fascinating. Spells books, potions ingredients, charms, quills, robes, and things Harry couldn’t even begin to identify. Severus led them purposefully through the the streets towards Gringotts. As they approached the massive white building, he glanced down the intersection to a section of the shopping center that looked, different.

The shops were darker, and although it still opened to the bright August sky, everything seemed cast in shadow. He peered, trying to make out the dark robed figures that darted between stores. One in particular caught his eye, a tall woman by the looks of it. She paused when his eyes lingered on him, piercing blue eyes looked back at him. Slowly, the hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end. He realized with a start where he’d seen that color ice-blue eyes before.

“Draco, is that your -” the blond boy stopped when Harry called his name. But as Harry looked back to the shadowy street the figure was gone. “Nothing,” he shook his head and they hurried to catch up with Severus who was already standing at the top of the steps to Gringotts.

The goblin at the door bowed and ushered them in. Unlike when he had come here last year, they did not have to wait inline. Severus strode through the lobby towards one of the side doors, his black robes billowing behind him, shoes echoing on the marble floor. Harry ducked his head, avoiding meeting the gaze of several of the harried looking witches that waited in line to be seen. Draco followed in the Potion Master’s wake easily, giving Harry’s sheepish smile a confused shake of his head.

The stopped at the Malfoy vault first. Draco had to hold his hand up to the door before it swung open, revealing piles of glittering Galleons and priceless treasures. He grabbed a silk bag and started stuffing coins into it before thin fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Moderation, Draco.” The blond boy looked up at Severus as though he was going to argue, but changed his mind, putting only a modest handful in the bag.

After they stopped at Harry’s vault, then Severus’. Harry couldn’t help himself, he peeked around the tall Professor trying to catch a glimpse of the contents. A sharp glance from the Potions Master had him shrinking back into the cart, his eyes studying the damp rock wall intently. Draco snickered beside him; the goblin looking less than amused.

Coffers replenished they left the bank, skirting a very excited looking red-headed man who was exclaiming over a Muggle couple exchanging notes for Galleons. As Severus ushered them out of Gringotts he caught sight of Weasley, arms folded watching them with a dark expression on his face. Harry couldn’t help it, he stuck out his tongue before slipping out the door.

“That Weasley prat is here,” he whispered to Draco as they followed Severus through the streets towards the apothecary. Draco whirled around but the large bronze doors had already closed. Both he and Harry fingered their wands, carefully stowed in holsters up their sleeves. It was unlikely any of the Weasley clan would hex them in such a public place, but then… Gryffindors were never particularly smart about when to fight. The two boys scurried to catch up with Severus who was waiting for them at the entrance to a shop, his expression cross at having to wait.

The first time Harry had been to Slug & Jiggers he’d bought the basic starter kit and left quickly. Hagrid seemed nervous in the shop with so many glass vials, lining every available wall surface, and tables in between. Now, with the Potions Master to guide them, they wove to the center of the shop. A tall lean man stood behind the counter, his long fingers rapidly flying over the keys of the cash register as he rung up student after student. Harry wondered for a fleeting moment if it was a requirement of potions masters to be slender giants. But just then a short stout man burst out from the back room, “Sev!” He wrapped his thick arms around Severus and squeezed.

Harry braced himself to leap out of the way of the inevitable curse and then stared, dumbfounded, as Severus chuckled and returned the hug lightly. “Careful there Slug, Jig’s a jealous sort.”

Slug, stepped back with a rosy blush and looked over at the tall man. Jiggers only snorted, his attention still on his work. Slug smoothed the white apron he was wearing over his robes and motioned for them to follow him into the store, waving his wand as he walked.. “Come, come, we’ll get you set up for the school year. The boys too?” A shopping basket floated through the store, carefully weaving past the displays, and distinctly less carefully threading through the customers. Several of whom looked up at it, shaking their wands. Slug, which was in fact his proper name, didn’t care. 

When he discovered that neither Harry nor Draco had personal potions chests he stopped and stared, slackjawed, at Severus. The Potions Master waved his hand, “I did not oversee their shopping last year, I assure you. This is one of many things we are going to rectify. Chests for them both, appropriately spelled for freshness and thieves.” Slug nodded and two rolls of parchment appeared next to his head with a large feather quill darted between them making notes.

Severus avoided the preassembled kits section of the store as if it contained some sort of plague, shooting any of his students he saw there a look of pure disdain. Instead, they wandered through the aisles of ingredients, the quill keeping record of what they purchased, and the vials and jars carefully placed in the basket that followed them. Finally, he seemed satisfied. Slug snatched the parchments. “For Hogwarts, and for Master Malfoy, with our compliments,” he bowed. Harry stepped forward, reaching for the pouch of Galleons, but a hand reached out and stopped him. Long, slender fingers held him back, and he looked up at Severus with a frown.

“Professor?”

The older man’s voice was gentle, “Harry, you should not have to pay your own way. That is what your guardians are for. Mr. Malfoy will be purchasing your school supplies.” He turned away, leaving Harry to process the information. He was grateful. The idea of someone taking care of him, even little things like his potions ingredients, was… he swallowed thickly, brushing away tears. 

When he’d recovered himself, he joined them at the door where Severus was promising to come round to dinner with Slug and Jiggers soon, and politely declining their invitations to set him up with a nice fellow. At that Harry blinked and Severus hurried them out of the shop. When they were a few feet away, he stopped, stepping to the side of the street in a small alcove.

“My… personal preferences, are just that. And not to be the subject of gossip at school. Am I understood?” Harry’s mind was racing. Vernon and Petunia had rarely spoken of homosexuality. When they had, it was in the most hushed tones with the implication that it was something quite disgusting. He glanced at Draco. The blond boy simply nodded. Severus glanced at Harry’s conflicted face and sighed. “I imagine that your aunt and uncle were not the most… tolerant of Muggles?” Harry grunted in agreement. “You will find that their prejudices are not often found in the wizarding world, or even the world as a whole.” His face softened, “If you ever find yourself with questions…” he trailed off as a large crowd of people surged past, headed for Flourish and Blotts. “You understand?”

“Of course Professor. Thank you.”


	6. The One With The First Day of Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of our trip #BackToHogwarts... a new chapter!
> 
> I'm so sorry it took so long. Life, as you know it, is ebil ebil ebil... like beans. Thank you so much to everyone for being so understanding and still reading <3

The rest of the shopping trip went without incident. As they approached Flourish & Blott’s Severus slowed and made a truly disgusted sound in the back of his throat. The windows were plastered with large posters featuring a garishly dressed man with a wholly insincere smile, proclaiming a book signing today. A line, mainly comprised of witches although there was more than one wizard who did not look as though he had been coerced, stretched out of the shop and down the street. A small man clutching a camera practically knocked Harry and Draco over as he hustled into the building, ignoring the glares from those waiting in line. “Make way!” he shouted, “Make way for the Daily Prophet.” He stopped dead in his tracks when he spied the scar on Harry’s forehead. “Blimey! You’re…”

Severus reached out and guided both boys behind him before pulling his dark robes close and folding his arms. “I think not,” he pursed his thin lips, dark eyes glaring at the weedy reporter. Harry and Draco shuffled back, right into the Weasleys.

“Famous Harry Potter,” Ron sneered under his breath. “Brought your own reporter with you? Had to make sure your school shopping made the front page?”

Draco had his wand out before Harry could reply. “Expelliarmus,” he hissed. Ron’s wand went flying out of his hand and was snatched out of the air by Fred. George walked up beside his younger brother and patted him on the top of his head with a heavy hand.

“Making friends Wickle Ronnikins?” His arm went around Ron’s neck in the semblance of an affectionate hug. However given the shade of red the small boy’s face was turning, it was not entirely friendly. “C’mon, Mum and Ginny are in line, and you know how much you’ve been looking forward to meeting Lockheart!” Without waiting for an answer he forcibly hauled Ron off to join the rest of the Weasleys.

Fred waited til they were out of earshot and grinned at the two boys. “Heya Harry, Draco.” He carded his fingers through his messy red hair and glanced back at his family before looking back at them with an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout…” he gestured awkwardly at his brothers.

“S’ok,” Draco smiled warmly. “See you at school?”

The taller boy nodded in agreement and hurried off to join his family just as Severus, too distracted to notice who they’d been speaking with, turned and walked up behind them. He appeared to have come to a decision. “I shall owl the proprietor and have your textbooks delivered to the Manor.” Harry sagged in relief. “I believe the books were the last items on your list?” when they both nodded Severus continued, “Take hold.” He held out his slender hands to them, strong bony fingers grasping tight as he Apparated them from Diagon Alley and back to the Manor grounds.

All too soon, summer was over. Despite the fun over the last weeks with Draco, Harry found himself looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. He frowned, when he thought of the events at the end of last term but shook his head, stuffing his supplies into his trunk as a house elf waited to take it down. Last year was in the past. This year he would be able to focus on his classes, and Quidditch. He followed his trunk down the stairs and gulped when he saw Draco’s mother standing next to Lucius.

Narcissa’s pale gaze watched him carefully with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “Ready to go Harry?” He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Got all your gifts? Don’t want to leave anything behind!” Her voice was reedy, overly cheerful as she walked through the front doors to the limo waiting at the front steps. 

“Yes Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Oh dear boy,” she slid in next to him, wrapping a cold slender arm around his shoulders. He fought the urge to wriggle away from her as a shiver went down his spine. “Lucius tells me he means that we should be your guardians. You must call me Narcissa.” 

For the first time, the prospect of living with the Malfoys instead of on Number Four Privet Drive seemed slightly less appealing.

“Draco always wanted a brother,” she patted her son’s knee and seemed not to notice the strange look on his face. “But, it was not to be.” She shot a particularly hostile look to her husband who was completely engrossed in his book.

Thankfully, it was not a long journey to King’s Cross. No doubt due to magic as Harry was quite certain Malfoy Manor was located no where near London.

“Give Mother a kiss dear,” Narcissa wrapped her claw-like fingers around Draco’s shoulders and pecked him on the cheek after they had made their way through the station to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. “And you dear boy,” she turned to Harry, kissing him the same way. “I see someone I must speak with,” she levelled a less friendly gaze on Lucius before turning in a swirl of dark robes and platinum hair and striding down the platform.

Harry tried to hide his sigh of relief as she disappeared into the throng of students and parents, but noticed that it seemed Lucius at least had done the same. The older man glanced around and herded the boys into a quieter alcove. Out of sight of most of the crowd, he pulled Draco into a warm hug. 

“Enjoy yourself Draco,” he patted his son’s head affectionately. Harry averted his gaze and jumped a little when Lucius squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “You too Harry. Try to stay out of trouble this year, mmm?” He smiled, no bite to his remark in his grey eyes. “Let me know if there is anything you need, both of you,” he fixed his gaze on Harry meaningfully and waited for the small boy to nod. “Severus and I are still working with the Ministry to fix things for next summer but… there are more obstacles than we had anticipated.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.” The mere fact that they were trying meant more to Harry than he felt he could ever express to them and settled for the simple thank you instead of falling all over his words.

The train sounded a warning shriek and the trio looked up. “Time to go!” Lucius walked with them to the door of the closest car, nodding formally to them both as they mounted the steps.

It was a shame, Harry thought as he and Draco made their way through the cars looking for space, that Draco and his father had to hide what they were really like. He’d gotten a bit of a feel for the public perception of the Malfoys at his birthday party, and knew that both Narcissa and Lucius had been Death Eaters, at least, that’s what Draco had implied last year. But, Lucius at least seemed to be different, unless he was pretending? 

The thought caused his stomach to twist uncomfortably as he sat down next to Pansy on the bench. It wouldn’t be the first time a wizard had fooled him. He recalled Quirrell last year; surely though Lucius could not keep the facade up as long as he had? Both Draco and Pansy seemed to sense that Harry was deep in his own thoughts, and after Blaise joined them the three let him be.

He kept his face pressed to the cool glass, the sickened knot in his stomach rolling around with his dark thoughts as he watched the countryside slide by. Even as the lamps lit and all he could see outside of the train was darkness he stared out the window.

Eventually, Pansy nudged him gently. “Harry?” her voice was too low to be overheard. “Are you alright? You know… You-Know-Who is gone, he’s not waiting at school for you.”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him and he blinked at her. “What? No.” Around them, the others began to pull on their robes. Harry stood and followed suit. “It’s not like that Pansy, just… thinking.” Sliding his wand into the arm holster he forced a smile. “Thanks, for checking up on me.”

“Of course,” she returned the smile decidedly more easily than his. “That’s what friends do.”

Feeling a little lighter, he joined the others for Exploding Snap. The laughter and camaraderie, even with the competitive game, working loose the anxious knot. By the time the Hogwarts Express slowed into Hogsmeade Station he had managed to put most of his worries aside. It did no good seeing traitors and trouble around every corner. 

Harry watched as Hagrid ushered the first years down to the boats, and then climbed into one of the waiting carriages behind Blaise. This year, without the anxious waiting to be Sorted, he was more aware of his hunger. He stared longingly at his plate while the Hat worked its way through the first years, and dug in with relish when Dumbledore finally called the Welcoming Feast.

After the first few delicious mouthfuls, he glanced up only to see Ron Weasley slinking into the Great Hall, apparently trying not to be noticed. When he managed to slip into his seat his face burst into a smug grin. A dark figure appeared behind him, waiting as the boy spoke boastfully to the bushy haired girl seated across from him. As Snape’s fingers curled around the arrogant Weasley’s shoulder, Harry burst out laughing at the horrified look on Ron’s face.

“This is going to be good.”

Unfortunately, the Potion’s Master gripped Weasley’s ear and pulled him out of the Great Hall. Draco looked over at him, confused and Harry pointed with his fork to where Severus and Ron disappeared around the corner. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Professor McGonagall sweeping down from the Head Table to follow them.

“The Weasel got into something…” Harry sighed. “Doesn’t look like we’ll get to find out what though.” He stuffed a piece of steak into his mouth and shrugged.

As it happened, the entire school found out what happened over breakfast the next morning.

Over at the Gryffindor table a red envelope flew out of Ron’s hand, smoking in the corners. But what grabbed everyone’s attention was the booming voice of Mrs. Weasley.

“— STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —

— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU COULD HAVE DIED —”

The shrieks from the Howler echoed off the stone walls, sending the dishes and cutlery rattling as it reached a deafening level.

— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME.”

“Well,” said Pansy as she brushed bits of dust and plaster off her shoulders and set her plate aside. “That’s… something.” The show appeared to be over, Weasley had disappeared entirely under the table.

“What I don’t get,” Harry commented as he shifted his book bag. “Is how stealing a car means an inquiry for his dad at work.”

Draco snorted, “His dad works at the Ministry of Magic. Something to do with people that mess with Muggle stuff. My guess is that wasn’t an ordinary car.”

As they crossed the lawn to the greenhouse Harry’s jaw dropped. And, surprisingly, it wasn’t the sight of Gilderoy Lockhart scurrying across the field, arms full of bandages. It was what he was rushing towards. The Whomping Willow was a crime scene. A Ford Anglia was perched amid a mess of broken branches, many already in slings, while several official looking wizards and witches walked in circles waving wands.

“Merlin’s beard!” Pansy almost dropped her books. “Is that… the car?”

“Second Years!” Professor Sprout burst out of the building. She paused and looked over at Professor Lockheart, a look of pure annoyance and frustration on her usually cheerful face. With an uncharacteristic snarl she pushed away the flyaway hairs, “Greenhouse Three, this way.” She led them towards the new greenhouse.

“Harry Potter!” A saccharine voice drifted across the grounds, followed quickly by Gilderoy. “Pomona, I need to steal our dear Harry here for a moment. I’ll have him back in a jiff.” He wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him away from the class, ignoring Professor Sprout’s glare. 

Before they disappeared around the corner Harry shot a panicked look at Draco and Pansy who were snickering.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text from the Howler was taken straight from the books.


	7. The One With Lockheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yaay! Getting into a slightly better routine with writing again.

The look in Lockheart’s eyes caused Harry to swallow, nervously. “How extraordinarily fortunate you are Harry.” The professor paused and looked at him meaningfully.

“Uhh, yes sir?” he stammered after an awkward pause.

“Why, when Dumbledore came to me, practically begging me to take up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, I just knew there was more to it than that.” He stopped and flashed a toothy smile. “I was more than happy to take you under my wing, dear Harry. In fact,” Lockheart leaned forward looking all together too pleased with himself for Harry’s comfort. “I’ve arranged with the Headmaster for special lessons starting this weekend! Saturday, just after lunch. I know… I know…” he patted Harry’s arm he led him back towards the greenhouse. “It’s a long wait, but I promise you it will be worth it!”

With a swirl of his lavender robes, he strode off, not waiting for Harry to respond. Harry stared after him, his jaw dropped. It was… horrible, worse than horrible. Fighting to keep the contents of his breakfast down, he pushed open the door and walked into the greenhouse.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," a bushy haired Gryffindor was reciting dryly "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

“Wonderful! Well done Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor.” Professor Sprout clapped, looking pleased. “Right, now… Mandrakes are one of the most powerful potions ingredients, but they’re also dangerous can anyone…”

“The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” Granger sniffed.

“Excellent, have another ten points. These Mandrakes are only babies, so their cry won’t kill you. But, it will knock you out for several hours. You’ll find,” she patted the earmuffs around her neck, “Sets of earmuffs on the tables. Put them on nice and snug. Grasp the Mandrake and with one smooth tug, pull it out of the pot, and gently place it into the new one.”

She turned and sharply smacked a long dark-red spikey tendril that had begun to curl around her shoulder. “And, mind the Venemous Tentacula, it’s teethy and feeling a little... “ she smacked it again with a scowl. Four to a tray, there you go then.”

Harry took his place between Draco and Pansy and eyed the rows of tufty purpleish-green plants in seedling trays suspiciously. Cry… of the plant? Regardless, he and the others did as they were told. Pansy looped her arm through Harry’s, pulling him away from Draco just as Blaise approached them.

“You’re MY partner this year,” she mouthed with a smirk. The other two boys paired off, as did the rest of the class. When they all signalled to Professor Sprout that they were ready, she gave them the thumbs up to begin.

Harry wrapped his hand around the plant’s stalk and pulled it out of the dirt, and promptly shrieked, dropping it back into the dirt. A small, muddy baby, with the plant growing out of the top of its head, sat in the dirt, clearly bawling at the top of his lungs. Pansy rolled her eyes at Harry and scooped up the baby Mandrake. Giving it a bit of a snuggle, she carefully placed it into the large pot and proceeded to cover it with dirt.

By the end of the class everyone was covered in dirt. For all the Mandrakes seemed upset at being pulled out of their pots, they didn’t particularly didn’t want to go back into them either. Pansy and Draco seemed to have a knack for them, but Harry had narrowly escaped being bitten more than once.

The day seemed determined to go from bad to worse. Transfiguration was never his best subject, but he was completely incapable of turning his beetle into a button. Professor McGonagall frowned and assigned him extra homework. The only bright spot of the class was Ron’s wand. It seemed to have been broken over the summer, and every time he tried to cast a spell, it backfired into his face.

After lunch, Harry sat with Draco and Pansy out by the lake. They were in the midst of a heated discussion on Quidditch when a bright flash blinded them all.

“Hiya Harry! I’m Colin Creevy!” A small boy with a smattering of freckles across his pale face and ears far too big for his head grinned, holding a camera. “I read all about you. How you defeated You-Know-Who, and got that,” he leaned forward and whispered loudly, “Scar. I just wanted a picture, to prove I met you. A boy in my dormitory told me if I developed it just right it would MOVE! It’s incredible isn’t it? Magic! I didn’t know what all that weird stuff I could do was but then Professor McGonagall came to the house with a letter from Hogwarts. Mum nearly fainted dead away, Dad couldn’t believe it. Maybe one of your friends could take a picture of you and me together? And then you could sign it?”

“Signed photos? Really Potter?” Weasley’s snide voice drifted over, his face twisted into a sneer. His beady eyes shifted from Draco to Colin, who was standing nervously, clutching his camera. “Draco Malfoy… the Death Eaters don’t recruit from Gryffindor. Just filthy Slytherins, like you.”

Draco seethed next to Harry, reaching for his wand.

“Don’t even think about it Malfoy!” Weasley brandished his broken wand, “Eat slugs!” The red head flew back several yards before landing with a pleasing thud on the damp grass. His wand clattered away and he twisted onto his side before violently retching. A slug oozed out of his mouth.

“Euuugh,” Draco, Harry, and Pansy backed away, looking green. “That’s,” Weasley vomited up another slug. “Disgusting.” They hurried towards the castle, giggling as they heard Colin trying to photograph the action.

“Serves him right,” Pansy sniffed. “I swear he’s the most over-dramatic prat that ever walked the face of this earth.”

“Why Forge, it sounds like someone’s met our little brother.”

“I concur, Gred, how unfortunate.”

The Weasley twins stepped out from behind one of the pillars in the courtyard and grinned at the trio. They strode towards Pansy and took turns bowing elaborately in front of her before kissing her hand with a flourish, proclaiming what a pleasure it was to finally meet her.

Draco made a strange noise in the back of his throat and Fred looked up with a smirk. “Jealous? Master Malfoy?” He moved in front of the younger boy and reached for his hand, kissing it with an impish grin.

“Don’t worry,” George grinned at Harry. “We missed you too.”

“Dinner? Tonight?” Fred draped his arm around Draco’s shoulders. “Assuming you remember the way.”

“Me too?” Pansy squeaked. 

George answered, as Fred was doubled over after Draco had started tickling his side, “Of course my dear, we’d be honored to welcome you to our little group of miscreants.”

A group of Ravenclaws passed them, looking over warily. Thankfully, with Fred making a dive for Draco, threatening to mess up his hair, they appeared to be fighting, rather than arranging to sneak out of their houses after hours to have dinner together in the kitchens. It wasn’t something that they’d ever addressed directly, but it seemed to go without saying that their friendship was not something they’d admit publicly. The two groups of friends separated slowly. Fred and George gave little waves, mouthing ‘See you tonight!’ as they slipped out of the courtyard.

Lunch was over far too soon, and Harry found himself hesitating outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He watched as groups of giggling girls, and a few boys, made their way in, primped and preening they fought for the desks in the front. Finally he sighed, if he dawdled any longer he’d be late for class. And the last thing he wanted was to serve detention with Lockheart in addition to the extra lessons. He slumped next to Draco in the back row. Pansy slipped in beside him, looking at the front rows, stacks of Lockheart’s novels perched on their desks with disgust.

“Really?” she muttered. “Pathetic.”

Harry and Draco’s murmurs of agreement were cut short by the appearance of Lockheart himself, sweeping dramatically into the room, tossing a pale lavender cloak to the side with a flourish. He flashed a toothy smile, causing the front row to squeal shrilly.

“Welcome! To Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he drawled. “Allow me to present your professor… me!” He paused as the front several rows clapped furiously. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He turned, picking up a stack of bright pink papers. “I see you’ve all purchased the textbooks,” he gestured to his novels with a grin. “I thought we’d start with a little quiz, see how prepared you all are.” When everyone had a quiz he clapped his hands, “You have half an hour, starting, now!”

Harry read over the first page and blinked.

1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart 's favorite color?

2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

His eyebrows shot up to the ceiling as he flipped through the remaining sheets. Page after page it went on. Until the last question:

54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

He looked up at Lockheart in disbelief. This was a joke, it had to be. The blond professor’s attention was currently captivated with a life-sized portrait of himself that hung behind his desk. Harry glanced over at Draco and Pansy and grinned wickedly. Furiously he scribbled an answer to the first question:

Colors are too precious to pick a favorite. Best advice? Wear them all.

Pansy snorted, almost knocking her inkwell off her desk and scrawled in below the second line:

To make a woman faint merely by smiling at her.

Working their way through the questions as a group, the answers ranged from barely veiled insults to the outright ridiculous. They struggled to suppress fits of laughter as Lockheart gathered up the papers, scanning them with a serious look on his face. 

“Ah, hardly any of you recalled that my favorite color is lilac, although I clearly stated it on page five-hundred ninety-eight of Year With the Yeti. And in chapter twelve of Wander With Werewolves I mention that the best birthday gift ever would be harmony between all living beings. But,” he grinned roguishly at the class. “Only Miss Hermione Granger knew that my secret ambition was to rid the world of evil, and then market my own line of hair care products. Well done Miss Granger! Go ahead and take ten points for your house.”

He reached under the desk and emerged holding a large cage, covered with a blue sheet. “Now to business. I must warn you, it is my job to prepare you against the most foul, dangerous creatures that stalk the world. This class is not for the faint of heart, and only those of the stoutest dispositions will survive.”

The cage rattled ominously and despite themselves Harry, Draco, and Pansy leaned forward in their seats, curious. Lockheart lowered his voice to a stage whisper, “You must remember not to scream. It might just provoke them!” With the final words he pulled the cover off dramatically, revealing a cage full of blue pixies, just over half a foot tall. “Cornish Pixies!”

Pansy and Draco burst out laughing, several other students began to snicker.

“You laugh,” Lockheart intoned ominously, “Let’s see what you make of them then, eh?” He tapped his wand to the lock and the cage door burst open. It seemed impossible that the small cage had held so many pixies, but they were everywhere.

It was complete and utter chaos. The bell signalling the end of class could barely be heard over the sound of the pixies methodically destroying everything in sight. Lockheart straightened up from where he’d been hiding under his desk, the classroom had emptied almost instantly. Looking at the trio, who had nearly been trampled by the rush of students desperate to escape, he grinned toothily.

“Right, if you three can just pop them back in their cage. Excellent,” without waiting for a response he fled through the teacher’s door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few small bits of dialogue were taken right from the book, it was impossible to phrase it better than our dear JK.


	8. The One With The Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just keeping swimming... just keep swimming.
> 
> NaNoWriMo is coming up in two weeks, and I plan to make this story (and hopefully a good chunk of the third book) my project for it. I won't be posting as I write because anyone who's done NaNo knows it'll need a bit of editing before it's fit for eyes other than my own :D
> 
> What I'm hoping is that by getting it all written, I can get ahead of the game, and start posting chapters more regularly (which is really what I should have done in the first place). Alas, patience has never been my strong suit.

“He’s barking mad if he thinks I’m going to stay and clean up this mess.” Pansy waved to the pixies who had started a small fire in the corner and were gleefully feeding it textbooks that had been left in the haste to leave the classroom.

“Just let him try and give me detention,” Draco sniffed. “Father would have a word or two to say about his teaching methods.”

“Besides, I don’t think Professor Snape thinks too highly of Lockheart.” Harry shoved his books in his bag and the three ducked out into the hall, ignoring the large crash that shook the door as they slammed it shut. “I’m not sure he’d actually let Lockheart give us detention.”

Lockheart never gave them detention, and when they saw him at dinner that night in the Great Hall he looked almost cowed. Apparently the pixies had caused a fire that had completely gutted the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and professor’s office. Rumor had it, Lockheart had to be rescued by the other teachers after Peeves had started dancing down the hall singing about destruction and death with more conviction than usual.

Harry wanted to look forward to the weekend. He spent most of his days dodging Lockheart or that Gryffindor who was intent on documenting every aspect of his life with his camera. Instead, as he rolled out of bed on Saturday morning to the chorus of birds greeting the dawn, he wondered how much it would hurt to fall from his broom during tryouts. Although he had a suspicion that Lockheart would simply proceed with their lesson in the Hospital Wing.

He dressed quickly, ignoring Draco’s anxious pacing. The others were asleep when they slipped out of the dorm. The rest of last year’s team was milling about the Common Room, Flint had requested the team head to the pitch together, a show of solidarity or something. Apparently he’d read a few books over the summer and was eager to try out what he had learned. A few of the older students gave Draco a strange look, those wanting to join the team were supposed to wait until they had finished warming up.

Draco straightened, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder and assumed his best “Malfoy heir” expression. Harry blinked as for a moment his friend looked like a smaller version of Lucius. The resemblance, down to the slightly arrogant mannerisms that challenged anyone to confront them, was uncanny. Yet Harry knew, as most of the others did not, these airs were a mask, a front.

As they trudged sleepily down to the pitch, Harry wondered if anyone, Muggle or wizard, was what they seemed. It was a depressing thought. He tried to shake it off as they left the castle. Despite the fact that the sun had risen, the grounds were chilly and he tugged on his gloves, as if pulling them on tighter would somehow keep out the cold.

There were only two open positions on the team this year, Beater and Chaser. Returning players were not required to tryout for their spots again. The thought made Harry a bit uncomfortable as he mounted his broom. His eyes scanned those that had already begun nervously standing at the edge of the pitch. He was a good Seeker, but… maybe there was someone better? Flint signalled them to begin their warm ups, a bit show-offy… but Harry enjoyed the way it made them look like a team.

When they’d finished, Flint went down the line of those waiting, eliminating some before they’d even mounted their brooms. For the rest, he had them fly one at a time with the team. Harry flashed Draco a thumbs up when it was his turn, lazily circling the pitch and watching his best friend.

The morning wore on, Flint dismissed a few more but had the others fly again with the team. Harry glanced at the cool September sun, now nearly straight above the pitch and groaned. He dove through the team to where Flint perched, watching intently.

“Uhh Flint?”

The burly seventh-year looked at him through thick, dark eyebrows and grunted.

“I’ve… got to go.”

The eyebrows drew together in irritation, Harry hurried to explain himself. “Dumbledore assigned me extra lessons… with Lockheart.”

Flint grunted in irritation and waved him off. With a last glance at where Draco was waiting his turn to fly with the team again, Harry left the Quidditch pitch for the locker rooms and showered in a hurry.

A growl in his stomach sent him hurrying into the Great Hall where he quickly snatched a few sandwiches and fended off Pansy’s questions about the tryouts. “Still going on!” He mumbled between bites, washing it down with a swig of pumpkin juice. “Go find out yourself.” He felt bad, snapping at her, but the prospect of spending his day off with Lockheart had soured his mood.

Lockheart was waiting in his office, a toothy grin plastered to his face. Harry shivered as the man beckoned him towards the desk. “Ahhh Harry. Excited for the lesson?” He seemed to accept Harry’s groan as affirmation, because he grinned even more broadly, producing baskets of letters. “Fans,” he passed the basket over with an exasperated sigh. “Keeping them happy is nearly a full time job!” The ridiculous smile still in place he set Harry to work addressing the envelopes.

Harry tried to keep his eyes from the clock, a garish lavender and robin’s egg blue affair mounted hideously above Lockheart’s desk. Several times, convinced it had been hours, he allowed himself to glance up and sunk back in despair when he realized only a few minutes had passed. Lockheart kept up a steady stream of conversation, Harry responded with “Mhmm,” “Of course,” and “Certainly Professor”, pleased that the elder didn’t require any further participation in the conversation.

His hand ached as he wrote out Veronica Smethly’s address. Suddenly a voice cut through Lockheart’s monologue, an icy cold sound that took Harry’s breath away. The flames of the bright pink candles seemed to sputter and spurt with the effort of remaining lit in the cold wave that crept through the room. 

"Come ... come to me.... Let me rip you.... Let me tear you .... Let me kill you…”

“What?” Harry jolted as the whispers coalesced into words. The ink spattered across the letter, blotting out the address.

“I know…” oozed Lockheart. “Six whole months at the top of the best seller list! Broke a few records by quite some margin!”

“No… No,” the sharp, frustrated tone of his voice drew a surprised stare from the Professor. “That voice,” his eyes frantically cast over the room, the chill set in his bones even as the pressure of the room eased.

“What are you…” Lockheart followed Harry’s anxious gaze until he spied the clock. “Merlin’s Beard Harry, look at the time. Off you go then,” Harry hurried out of the room, trying to block out Lockheart’s simpering that next week wouldn’t be quite as much of a treat, and listening for the voice again.

The remaining chill from the voice had driven any feelings of hunger from Harry’s mind as he cautiously made his way through the halls of the castle towards the Slytherin dungeons. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he strained to hear everything. The halls were quiet, most students were in the Great Hall for dinner.

He made it back to his dormitory without any sign of the source and found Draco perched on Harry’s bed, practically dancing with excitement.

“I made the team!” he shrieked.

Happy for his friend, Harry couldn’t shake the icy grasp of the voice and sat next to Draco, explaining what had happened.

“And Lockheart couldn’t hear it at all?” Draco’s pale features were twisted into a thoughtful, confused expression.

He opened his mouth to answer when Blaise burst through the door, each hand bearing a bundle wrapped in a napkin. “You weren’t there for dinner,” he explained as he passed them the napkins. The smell of roast and freshly baked bread filled the room and Harry’s stomach growled loudly in response. “Thought so,” Blaise laughed. The kindness of his friend and the warmth of the food drove the last of the chill from the voice out of his bones. 

With no desire to wander around the castle, or even leave his bedroom, once Harry finished with his supper he changed into his pyjamas and slipped under the covers of his bed with a potions textbook. His choice of night time reading earned him a raised eyebrow from Blaise. “A textbook? Sure the hat didn’t get it wrong?” he teased, pulling out a Quidditch magazine. “That sort of behavior belongs in Ravenclaw!”

Harry threw a pillow at him, and narrowly ducked as it was fired back. A full-scale war erupted. Wands forgotten they hurled pillows whilst barricaded behind their beds. Afterwards, Harry returned to his bed and his text book. The dorm was quiet except the light scratching of Draco’s raven feather quill and before long sleep claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 Comments, questions and all that make my day. And if you haven't donated to AO3 this month, consider doing so if you enjoyed this fic, and all the other amazing works that our lovely website makes possible!


	9. The One with Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! I've finished NaNoWriMo :D Book two is now finished, I'll just be editing it, making little tweaks, and publishing it as each section is done. Book three is well on the way and I'll be continuing to work on that.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter! <3

Harry pulled on his Quidditch sweater, looking out through the window again with a shudder. What had started as a pleasant fall in the North was quickly shifting towards heavy rain and biting temperatures. They had woken up this morning to the sound of rain pellets against the thick glass and for one glorious moment Harry had entertained the notion that Flint might cancel practice and let them have a lie-in instead.

At least, he thought with a grin as he readjusted his glasses, he didn’t have lessons with Lockhart anymore. At his lesson with Severus the following day the professor had asked where he’d been during dinner. Harry had seen the Potions Master angry before. Exploding cauldrons full of caustic and/or poisonous mixtures tended not to bring out the taciturn man’s cheerful side. But the look of rage on his pale face was something else entirely. He schooled his features quickly although the resentment burning in his dark eyes remained. After Potions later that week Severus had asked him to stay behind and explained that his additional lessons with Lockhart were finished. Harry had to resist the urge to hug the tall man, and settled for beaming broadly at him instead.

The memory brought a smile to his face as he snatched his goggles off the covers and headed to the Common Room. At least after practice it would be the Halloween Feast.

“Careful beaming like that Potter, Flint’ll see ya smiling and keep you for extra practice,” Gemma teased.

“And the rest of us will just think you’re mad,” Draco drawled, looking paler than usual in the strange light of the Slytherin Common Room.

“You alright Draco?”

“Yeah,” he answered, carding his fingers through pale blond hair. “Weather’s just ghastly, not looking forward to flying in it.”

“You’re not coming down with that nasty bug are ya mate?” Gemma pressed the back of her hand to Draco’s forehead, ignoring his indignant sputtering. She cast a few quick spells, tipping her head at the runes that floated up from his body. “Hmm, look to be alright. Don’t go leaving all your homework til last minute and staying up all hours though.”

“Oiy, Gemma, stop showing off and get to the pitch!” A tall, burly figure growled at them from the passage into the castle.

“Ignore him,” she huffed. “Bletchley’s just pissed that Madam Pomfrey chose me as her apprentice next year over him.” Her gaze travelled back to Draco, waving her wand and prodding at the runes. "That's... odd, I..." Gemma huffed, blowing her hair out of her face. "You sure you're feeling alright Malfoy?"

"I'm fine," he groused, batting her wand away and scattering the runes.

Gemma started to protest, but Flint poked his head through the portrait hole, barking at them and silencing any further discussion. Still casting curious frowns at the younger blond boy, she ushered them out of the dorms and out to the Quidditch pitch.

The rain was blinding, their boots squelching in the soaked grass as they made their way out onto the field. As Harry kicked off he could barely hear Flint shouting for them to stop acting like Hufflepuffs.

Practice was miserable, by the time Flint finally called them in, Harry could barely hold onto his broom. Long after the rest of the team had left he stayed in the shower, letting the hot water leech the cold from his bones. When he finally made his way back to the castle the halls were quiet. He padded softly over the stone floors, each step echoing back to him.

Suddenly, the flames dimmed. The pressure of the echoes nearly knocking him off his feet.

Kill....

The ice cold voice curled around Harry's heart and he gasped for breath, holding onto the cool wall for comfort.

"Harry?" The Weasley twins swam into his field of view as he frantically turned his head, looking for the source.

So hungry... rip... tear...

"Harry what's...?" Fred ducked down, peering at him worriedly.

"Be quiet!" he hissed, "Listen!"

Time to kill...

The voice grew quieter, moving away from him as the pressure in his chest lightened.

"C'mon, it's getting away!" He tore down the passage, leaving Fred and George to exchange a strange look. After a wordless conversation they nodded, long legs easily catching up to the younger boy.

The cold feeling returned as Harry turned the corner, his stomach twisting in knots as he thought he could smell blood. "It's going to kill someone!" he shouted at them, racing up the stairs to the next floor, chasing the voice down a long dark hallway.

"Harry," Fred said, sounding almost afraid. "What is going on, we don't hear -"

"Look." George stopped dead in his tracks, pointing down to the end of the corridor. Two large stained glass windows overlooking the lake framed foot high letters, glittering in the light of the torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED  
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"Wh-what's that?" Harry's voice shook as he spotted something hanging from the far brazier.

Fred and George looked over at each other, exchanging another silent conversation. George stayed with Harry, a large hand on his back, while Fred moved closer, wand held ready.

"It's Filch's cat!" The other two hurried forward. Mrs. Norris stared at them with unblinking eyes, her body rigid, stiff as a board.

"We need to get out of here," the twins whispered in unison.

"Agreed," Harry kept a grip on his wand as they backed away, nervously looking around the corridor, his ears straining for any sound of the voice. But it was gone. Other then the three pairs of footsteps on the cold stone floor, the passage was silent.

"What's this then?" Filch shuffled around the corner, holding a lantern up and peering at the three students brandishing their wands. "What've you done?" The lantern clattered to the floor, rolling away leaving a trail of embers as his eyes focused behind them, on Mrs. Norris. "My cat!" he yelped. "You murderers! I'll kill you for this, I'll kill you!" His voice thundered through the halls, he pushed past the twins to stand next to Mrs. Norris, his hand passing over his ashen face.

"I kill you!" he screamed.

"Argus?" Despite his misgivings about the man, Harry had never felt so glad to hear the Headmaster's voice. He turned around to see Dumbledore, flanked by most of the teachers, as the rest of the school crowded into the hall.

Without looking at the three boys, Dumbledore moved next to Mr. Filch and gently lifted Mrs. Norris into his arms. He held her carefully as his ice blue eyes swept over the writing. "I believe you three should come with me."

"Professor?" Gilderoy pushed through the crowd of students, taking time to flash toothy smiles, "I believe my office is closest? Just up the stairs here."

"Yes, of course, if you'll follow me?" Harry shivered, although it had been framed as a question, nothing in the Headmaster's tone suggested anything was optional. Ignoring the looks from the other students, he followed Dumbledore with his head bowed.

He heard someone fall into step beside him, but carefully kept his gaze on his own shoes as they made their way into Lockhart’s office. Behind him, Fred and George snickered. All over the room were framed versions of the professor, shrieking and covering the rollers in their hair as they darted out of sight in a flash of satin dressing gowns.

Dumbledore set Mrs. Filch on the desk, muttering and poking her gently with his wand as he tried various spells and charms. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as he caught a glimpse of the murderous looks Mr. Filch was throwing his way. He backed up, edging towards the back of the room when a large hand closed over his shoulder. Suppressing a yelp, he looked up to see the dark face of Severus Snape.

The Potions Master frowned, his hair hiding his lips from view as he spoke softly to Harry. "What did you see?"

Keeping his head bowed to hide his lips as much as possible, Harry muttered back. "The writing, it looked like blood. It was like that when we got there, I swear Professor."

Severus nodded almost imperceptibly and opened his mouth to speak.

"It was definitely a curse," Lockhart announced. Filch wailed, sinking into a nearby chair. "So unfortunate I wasn't there. Of course I know the counter spell that could have saved her. Having used it myself so many times." He patted Filch's head, ignoring the angry looks the distraught man gave him.

"You know, I once saved an entire town from something rather a lot like this." The portraits of Lockhart had returned, every hair in place and sporting robes of varying shades of magenta. They nodded along as he spoke, sometimes muttering to each other. "Amulets, of course. For protection. For full details, you can read my autobiography. Chapters Fifteen through Eighteen."

"She's not dead." Dumbledore straightened, cutting Lockhart off.

"She's not?" Filch peered at the Headmaster with red-rimmed eyes, sniffling loudly. "But, she's stiff..."

"Petrified, although I can not determine how."

"Them!" Filch shrieked, standing and shaking a bony finger at the three boys. "They's the ones that done it. Found them crowing over her I did! You saw! You saw what they did!" Spit flew from his mouth, his face contorting in anger.

"If I may?" Severus squeezed Harry's shoulder lightly, hidden in the folds of his robe as he stepped past the boy and into the center of the officer. "Perhaps Harry and," his dark eyes looked over the Weasley twins with a hint of disdain, "his friends... were simply in the wrong place and the wrong time?"

Filch sputtered, torn between continuing to berate the boys and his fear of the Potions Master.

"The hour is late, Headmaster," he continued. His voice was silky smooth as he folded his robes around his tall, lean frame. "It is doubtful that any of these boys possess the knowledge required to Petrify a flea, let alone an entire cat."

Dumbledore glowered at Severus, cool blue eyes hidden behind his half moon glasses. "Very well," he responded after a long, heavy pause. "I believe Professor Sprout has a rather promising crop of Mandrakes. When they mature, a potion can be made that will cure her."

"Allow me!" Lockhart beamed. "I'm quite the expert if I do say..."

"I believe that the position of Potions Master has already been filled," said Severus, his voice deadly.

"You are dismissed," Dumbledore flicked his eyes towards Harry. "However," he held up a thin hand, "If there is anything further you wish to share? I trust you will come see me, first."

"Yes Headmaster," they chimed as they hurried out of the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for leaving your kudos and comments. They really make my day!


	10. The One With the Story about the Chamber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blech, I said I was going to publish on Fridays, and I had EVERY intention of doing so. Until my entire day went sideways, sorry! But here's a new chapter, only a day late. Enjoy!

The three put as much distance between themselves and the teachers as possible before they slowed.

"Harry?" George ran his fingers through his hair. "What... was all...?"

"Harry!" Draco and Pansy rounded the corner, looking frantic. "What happened?"

"We were just trying to sort that out before you stuck your nose in," Fred grinned as Draco sputtered. "A very elegant nose, but didn't anyone ever tell you it was rude to interrupt when the grownups are talking?"

Draco punched the taller boy, "You're two years older, not a bloody teacher."

"And such language!"

"Stop!" Pansy glared at the two of them as she sank down on her heels beside Harry, who was looking pale. "Flirt later, there are more important things than your hormones.”

Draco sputtered, his face coloring brightly as he shuffled away from Fred who simply grinned, folding his arms. The grin faded when he looked down at Harry.

"You were talking about a voice..." he prodded.

"Not here you git," George helped Harry up. "C'mon, I know Harry missed the feast. Let's go to the kitchen and get some food."

Harry's stomach rumbled in agreement and the group made their way down to the warm kitchens where the house elves eagerly set up a table piled high with pastries and meat. After a round of Butterbeer they disappeared back to their work, leaving the group of students alone.

"Alright Harry," George waited until Harry had managed to put away at least one serving before he began. "What is going on, you sounded..."

"The voice," he looked at Draco who nodded. "I heard it once before, beginning of the year. It's. cold... talking about killing. Tonight, it said it was hungry..." he shivered, leaning back in the chair.

"We didn't hear anything," Fred frowned.

"Neither did Lockhart, I was with him the first time," Harry shrugged. "I heard it, clear as day."

"We believe you," Pansy said, reassuring Harry as a dark look crossed his face. She looked over at Draco, sandwiched between the Weasley twins. "It's weird, but we believe him, right?"

The three boys added their agreement and the group settled into an easy silence as they finished their plates.

"Do any of you know what the Chamber of Secrets is?" Harry asked. He’d indulged them while he ate. Whatever it was, there was no use starving himself over it. The Dursley’s did enough of that this summer. His body had finally regained some of the mass he’d lost over the Holidays. He poked at the last of his steak pie on the plate, was it too much to ask for a quiet year of classes?

Draco and Pansy shook their heads, setting down their glasses. 

"Bill... our older brother, mentioned something once. About some hidden chamber at Hogwarts." George shrugged.

"Don't remember much else though," Fred said.

“See what we can dig up?” Harry glanced over at the large clock. “You know Filch is going to be looking for us, any excuse after this I think. Probably you two as well,” he smiled sympathetically at Draco and Pansy, “He knows we’re friends.”

The others nodded, it wouldn't do to be caught out of the dorms after curfew. Promising to keep an ear out for the voice, and to find out what they could about the Chamber, the twins left the Slytherins at the entrance to the dorms and disappeared down a secret passage.

News of the attack on Mrs. Norris was all anyone could talk about for the next week. The teachers tried in turn to remove the message from the wall. After classes they could be found, spelling, cursing, hexing. Hagrid gave it a good old fashioned scrubbing with some concoction of Snape’s, still the large letters shimmering in the torchlight.

Filch didn't help, keeping vigil on the spot where she'd been found when he wasn't stalking Harry, Fred or George. After he tried to put the Weasley twins in detention for looking happy, Professor McGonagall insisted that Dumbledore suspend the man's privileges, instead needing the support of a teacher to met out punishments.

Unfortunately, this redoubled his efforts to catch them at something, and Harry could hardly go anywhere except the Common Room without Filch at his heels, muttering about thumbscrews.

He wasn't sure if it was the ever-present shadow of the caretaker, or something else, but it felt like his first few weeks at school all over again. Ron Weasley, seemed to conveniently forget that his brothers were there as well, took every chance to pointedly move out of Harry's way or bully him in turn. It wasn’t just him, most of the students seemed to assume he had something to do with it. Everywhere he went it was whispers and stares, a few took to pointing at him openly.

Harry sighed as the ginger shoved him out of the way as he walked into the library. Resisting the urge to hex his retreating form, he made his way through the stacks, avoiding a rather frazzled looking Gryffindor who was muttering something about unrealistic room for book in trunks.

Pansy and Draco had secured a table in the corner and already covered it with several books stacked high. Draco was pouring over Hogwarts - A History, muttering to himself as he referenced a few other large tomes opened next to him. Harry opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Pansy waved him off.

"Don't, he'll just snap at you," she said quietly.

"Is he ok?"

She shrugged, "He's been muttering and reading all morning. Determined to figure out everything about the Chamber of Secrets."

"He figure anything out?"

"Not much," Pansy said, sighing. "Hogwarts - A History has a small section, but it's not detailed at all. It speculates that each of the Founders might have customized the castle in some way. I'm just going to ask Binns. Draco, c'mon. It's time for class." Draco lifted his head when she raised her voice, glaring at her. With a sigh he started packing the books away. After watching him struggle with the weight Pansy took pity on him, waving her wand and casting a feather charm on the bag.

"Thanks Pansy, I'll have to remember that one." He hefted his now much lighter bag onto his shoulder and forced a smile onto his face.

The three made their way to the classroom, for the first time Harry was glad they were early, picking seats at the front. As the rest of the students filed in, Binns floated through the wall. Without looking around, he shuffled a few papers on his desk and cleared his throat.

"Picking up where we left off last week -" Binns’ voice had a magical quality that had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he was a ghost. Within seconds of him speaking, half the class would drift off. By the end, only the most studious were paying attention. Harry had tried valiantly to listen, convinced a class taught by a dead professor had to have some excitement. The longest he’d lasted was twenty minutes, and he had no memory of what had been taught. It was accepted that whatever essay Binns assigned, the information would come from the library, not the class itself. As a result, when Pansy lifted her hand in the air to ask a question, all eyes in the classroom turned to her in shock.

"Professor?" Pansy asked softly after Binns had continued to lecture, oblivious to the commotion caused by one little hand.

"Miss Wilson? You had a question?" Binns' floated over to her desk, his face beaming in pleasure.

"Will you tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry could hear every student in the class lean forward, perching eagerly on the edge of their seats.

"Ahh, now that is an interesting subject. You all know the founding of Hogwarts, yes? We don’t know the date, but four of the brightest wizards and witches of the age wanted to create a safe place for their children to study, learn more about who, and what they were. Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Salazaar Slytherin came together and Hogwarts was born. For a time, all was well. The school flourished and thrived, until one of the four wanted to be more selective. Yes," he nodded as the class began to murmur.

"Salazaar Slytherin did not want those from Muggle families studying with those born into all wizarding lines. He argued that Muggleborn students were less trustworthy that those of magical parentage. The disagreements and bickering culminated in an argument between Salazaar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. He left the school, sealing up his chamber saying that only the true heir would be able to open it, and control the horror within.”

He paused, adjusting his ghostly glasses. “Historical fact confirms the disagreement between Salazaar and Godric, and the fact that Salazaar left the school soon after. Anything beyond that, the existence of hidden rooms in the castle linked to the Founders, is wild speculation at best. I assure you, the school has been searched thoroughly. Nothing even remotely suggestive to the Chamber has been found."

"The heir of Slytherin?" Pansy frowned as they settled into the chairs around the fire. The soft green light from the lake looking particularly ominous as they surreptitiously glanced around the Common Room, wondering where the entrance to the chamber might be. "It could be anyone!"

"Any Slytherin you mean. You know, they're going to hate us even more now," Draco moaned.

"It's not like they needed much motivation," Pansy said quietly.

Harry pushed his hair out of his face, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "Is there any way we could narrow it down at least? Muggle families keep records; genealogy I think they call it."

"Lineage is important to pureblood families," Draco said, sitting up slowly. "Maybe, in the library?"

Pansy pushed herself up, looking at them and rolling her eyes. "Honestly," she said in disgust, "You think if the answer was as simple as looking it up in the library someone would have figured it out already. We're not going to get information from some dusty old book."

"Well then?" Harry asked. "What's your brilliant idea?"

"Our parents," she looked over at Harry, her face falling. "Well, Draco's, and mine. And maybe Blaise? Anyone else we can think of. Fred and George mentioned their older brother said something about the Chamber. Maybe they'll help?"

Draco fell back against the cushions, "So what, we just write home: 'Dear Mum and Dad. Someone's let a monster loose in the castle… we're not related to Salazaar Slytherin by any chance, are we? See you at Christmas, love Draco?' That'd be cheery."

"That was not what I meant," she said, rolling her eyes again. "But, if Bill heard a story, maybe our parents have heard something too. If the person opening the Chamber was any of us, I think we'd know." She sniffed and pulled a few rolls of parchment from her bag. "Come on Draco, it can't hurt to ask if they heard of it, can it?"

"I guess not," he said and reached for the paper begrudgingly.

"Did... did any of you know that Salazaar was the one to start the whole... pureblood thing?" she asked, as they wrote their letters. Harry was writing a note to Fred and George, asking them to see what they could find out from their parents.

Draco shook his head, "I always thought that was... well, You-Know-Who."

"You think it's true then?" Harry asked. "I mean; it was hundreds of years ago. Maybe it's just a story made up to scare little kids. Muggles do it all the time."

"Wizarding families too, do you really think that's what this is Harry?" Pansy nibbled on the end of her quill, eyebrows furrowed.

"It's got to be something. Look, I don't trust Dumbledore, but if he couldn't un-Petrify Mrs. Norris... or, wouldn't."

Pansy leaned forward, her voice low, "What are you saying Harry?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, that's all."

"But what about the other teachers? It's Snape's house that's getting accused, you think he'd do something."

"I don't think he can," Draco said, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded.

"What do you mean?"

"Just, I don't think Snape can do as much as he wants." He continued at their confused looks. “I mean, don’t you think it’s weird, how little the Head of House can actually do? Dumbledore seems to be running the show. And if I had to guess, I’d say that means Dumbledore has something on Snape.”

Harry couldn’t help but agree, although he hated the idea that there was something the Headmaster could use as a weapon against his Head of House. It had to be more than Snape’s past as a Death Eater… He rolled up his letter. He’d send it via owl to the Twins. Hedwig was smart enough to not deliver it at breakfast. She’d wait until they were alone.


	11. The One With the Quidditch Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late again, hopefully you'll forgive me! NaNo is done! I rounded out the month with just over 110k written for this story. A good bit of that will require extensive editing, but the skeleton is there :D Hope everyone is looking forward to a great Holiday season (if you celebrate and whatnot) and a nice slow month no matter what your traditions are. Now I'm off to bake some apple pies and decorate my house :D
> 
> Fa la la la laaaah~

As the story about the Chamber of Secrets spread around the school the associated rumors circulated wildly. Gossip fanned the roaring trade in protective charms and talismans and it was almost impossible to take a step without someone trying to sell a magical protection against Petrification. Between homework and Quidditch practice, Harry could hardly spare a moment to fret over why it was taking so long for the Parkinsons and Malfoys to answer the owls.

At least that also meant he had little time to fret over the group of first years that had taken to shrieking and scattering as he passed them in the halls.

"Oh honestly, grow up!" she shouted after a group that had taken off, sprinting across the lawn as they returned from Herbology.

"What, is..." Harry had looked at the fleeing students, confused.

“Haven’t you heart?” Draco asked, his thin lips pulling into a grin. "They think you're the heir of Slytherin."

"You can't be serious."

"I didn't say they were smart," he smirked.

"So what, I'm not their precious savior and that makes me the villain instead?" Harry frowned as a small girl dropped her books as he glanced at her. “I’m really getting tired of this. Make up your mind!” He shouted after the students hurrying away.

“Ignore them,” Pansy squeezed his arm. “Dinner, and then rest. You both have Quidditch tomorrow.” Harry wanted to argue, but she was right. And it wasn’t as if he could do much to convince them otherwise. He doubted standing up on the table in the Great Hall, announcing that he was most certainly NOT the heir of Slytherin would accomplish anything except perhaps detention from Filch, who was still following his every move.

Saturday morning dawned unusually bright for this time of year. Harry and Draco pulled themselves out of bed with matching groans, shovelling down a quick breakfast before making their way to the Quidditch pitch. Flint was treating this first match as though it was the final for the cup, they found him pacing through the locker room, muttering and brandishing his broom like a staff.

"Wood's had them practicing longer and harder than last year. A completely new program. But we trained for this. We're going to beat them so bad there's no chance of them winning the Cup, got it?"

The team nodded and mounted their brooms, kicking into the skies. Harry shivered, the first game of the year always had the best turn out. As he lapped the teacher's box he noticed the Headmaster was conspicuously absent.

Harry kept his focus on the game; vaguely noting when Madame Hooch blew the whistle, releasing the Quaffles and Bludgers, but none of that mattered. Flint wanted to beat the Gryffindors, not just by a little, but by enough to knock them out of the running completely.

That meant Harry had to hold off finding and catching the Snitch until they had a significant lead. It was a bold strategy, but he wasn't entirely sure it was a bad one. A flash of red hair coming up behind him caught his attention. Ron Weasley had been made the Gryffindor Seeker. He laughed a little, the Cleansweep he was riding had no hope of beating the Firebolt. It wasn't fair, but to be honest, it didn't bother him that much.

Fred and George’s brooms weren’t fancy either, yet they were a force to be reckoned with as Beaters.

Perhaps in another world, if he had been sorted into Gryffindor, he might have been friends with the youngest Weasley brother. Harry laughed out loud. That would go well, he thought to himself, lazily circling the pitch, no sign of the Snitch at all. He'd seen enough of Weasley Junior's character to know he was only out for himself. Too much Gryffindor bluster, not enough brains.

Squinting against the sun he pulled up his broom, looking over at Weasley. He was stopped over the Slytherin hoops, and a small ball of gold flashed beside his ear. The Snitch! Apparently, the game was far more interesting, he didn’t appear to have noticed the object hovering over his shoulder. Harry glanced at the score board. Slytherin was only ahead by ten points, enough for a win, but not at all what Flint wanted. Still, a win was a win.

If he started towards the Snitch, even Weasley couldn't miss that. A grin spread across Harry's face and he pulled his broom in a tight circle, pretending to look anxiously for the small golden ball as Lee announced another goal for Gryffindor.

Leaning low over the handle, he darted off towards the far side of the pitch, away from Weasley and the Snitch.

"It seems the Slytherin Seeker has spotted the Snitch!" Lee shouted. "Will it be an early end for the most anticipated game of the year? Weasley's hot in pursuit-"

Harry filtered out the announcer's voice. He'd heard what he wanted. Weasley was chasing him, away from the actual Snitch. He circled the teacher's stand quickly, diving low to skim across the grass before pulling up sharply, heading far above the pitch.

"Harry! Look out!" Draco's voice cut through his exhilaration. Harry glanced up just in time to see a Bludger flying towards his broom. He rolled a tight circle, narrowly avoiding the large solid ball. As he steadied himself he cursed, the Bludger was coming back.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, pulling the broom out of the Bludger's path only for it to redirect, heading straight for him. Draco flew in from below, striking the ball with a sharp crack, sending it off towards the stands.

Below them, the game continued, Flint yelling at his Chasers to focus on the Quaffle. Harry thought briefly that it would be nice if the Captain of his team had some consideration for his safety, when the Bludger changed direction, spiralling towards him once again.

"Merlin's beard Harry, I think that Bludger hates you."

"Not sure what I did to it," he wheezed, darting out of the way in the knick of time. They flew together, taking turns with Harry flying out of the Bludger's path and Draco smacking it away.

From the sounds of Lee’s announcing and the cheers and groans of the stands, it would appear no one had noticed the rogue Bludger’s determination to sabotage the Slytherin Seeker.

Harry and Draco flew low over the teacher's box again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a look of concern cross Severus' face as they skimmed barely over the tops of the teachers. "Snape, help!" Harry shouted. Relieved to see the older man standing, wand raised.

"Finite incantatum," he yelled. A bolt of wispy green light flew from his wand, colliding with the Bludger seconds before it smashed into Harry's head. The Bludger exploded, showering both Harry and Draco with small brown bits of rubber.

Harry shook off his hands, tightening his grip on the broom as he pulled up and flashed Snape a bright smile. "Brilliant, Professor." Severus nodded, settling back on the bench and pulling his robes around him.

Wood had pulled up beside Madame Hooch, Weasley beside him, and the two argued about stopping the match. "It's an unfair advantage," Wood insisted. "Slytherin's head of house interfered with the game. I insist we start it again."

Draco patted Harry on the back and peeled off towards the action. Ignoring the arguing, Harry looked around the pitch, squinting his eyes against the bright sun.

"And taking advantage of the situation, what else could we expect from the Heir of Slytherin, the Slytherin seeker has caught the Snitch. Ending the match while his fellow Seeker was out of play!"

Harry shook his head, his gloved hand closed tightly around the golden ball. Quidditch didn't have a lot of rules. Even adapted slightly for school play, so long as the Snitch was in play, the game was on. Wood was positively shrieking with rage, while Weasley's face had begun to closely resemble his hair. None of it mattered. Madame Hooch waved them off, walking over to where Harry was landing his broom.

"What happened up there Potter?" her sharp yellow eyes studied him, unblinking.

"Bludger wouldn't leave me alone. I didn't know they could do that."

"They don't," she folded her arms. "Interfering with the game is a serious offense." Harry's chest clenched. She wasn't about to rule in favor of the Gryffindors, was she? His mind race, forming his argument, bringing everything he could think of to argue to the forefront. Slowly, his mind refocused on her words as she continued to speak. "Someone hexed that Bludger, you'd be well within your rights to demand a rematch."

He blinked, that was not what he'd expected. "A... rematch?"

Behind him, Wood brightened and nodded his head. The older boy stepped forward. "It's only sporting, eh Potter?"

"No, I don't think so," Harry said, his voice cold. "I didn't see you calling for the game to end when that Bludger was trying to kill me. We played the match, and Slytherin won. That's that."

Madame Hooch nodded, whirling on her heel and striding away. satisfied with his decision. Wood's mouth dropped and he sputtered. "Well I... was only..."

"Cheating's a new low, getting that desperate Wood?" Draco and Pansy moved to flank Harry. Their expressions murderous.

"I know it's your last year and all Wood, but honestly." Pansy tucked her arm into Harry's turning him away from the Gryffindor Captain, she flicked her hair over her shoulder, glancing back, "Have some class."

Pansy walked with them to the Slytherin locker room, her head held high, nose in the air. "Wretched." she sniffed as she released Harry’s arm. "Now everyone's going to say you only won because Snape blew up that Bludger."

"Better it than me," Harry said, rubbing his face.

"Absolutely," the soft tone of Lucius Malfoy floated over to the group. "Mr. Malfoy!" Harry said at the same time Draco grinned,

"Father!"

"Draco, Harry, Miss Parkinson," Lucius bowed, a soft smile gracing his lips as he stood.

"Pansy, please."

"As you wish," he nodded. "That was quite the match boys. Well played, even with the... complication."

"Thank you, sir." they chimed together.

"I have other business to attend to with the Headmaster, but I wanted to check you were alright?" His tone deepened, as he looked over Harry with genuine concern.

"I'm fine, Draco did a great job keeping that Bludger from me."

"Are you going to answer my letter or not?" Draco burst out, looking irritated.

"Ahh," Lucius glanced around at the busy pitch. "Not here. I'll send Dobby for you, after my meeting."

"Dobby's here?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Narcissa never travels without her personal house elf."

"Mother's here?" Draco asked, craning his neck.

"She is, talking with the Headmaster already I believe." Lucius' already thin lips pursed into an almost invisible line. "If you boys will excuse me." He bowed again and turned in a swirl of dark robes.

Harry grabbed Draco and Pansy by the elbows, dragging them away from the locker room and far from the crowds still milling about. "Draco, can you call Dobby?"

"Call, my mother's house elf? Now? Father said he would send for us when he was finished."

"Look," Harry lowered his voice and explained how he had met the strange creature before term began.

"Mother will have him iron his hands, or worse!" Draco said, looking upset. "But, why wouldn't someone want you here this year?"

"I never want you here," Ron's grating voice floated around the corner. "Too bad that Bludger exploded."

"What do you know about the Bludger?" Pansy hissed, pulling out her wand and starting towards the youngest Weasley brother.

"He didn't do anything!" A bushy haired girl next to Weasley bristled, moving forward, placing herself between them.

"Says you," Pansy sneered. “You near top of our class, Granger, maybe you’re the one that did it. Merlin knows Weasley’s not smart enough.”

"Says me," the girl replied, her nose in the air as she pretended to brush a speck from Pansy's robes. "We didn't have anything to do with it. Maybe one of those snakes you call friends..."

She stepped back, looking down at them. "Come on Ron, I believe McGonagall was going to have a word with Professor Dumbledore about the match. I read a few things I believe could help her out."

Pansy glared at them as they retreated. "Oooohhhh, I want to hex that hair and strangle her with it!" She lifted her wand at their backs.

"Not worth it," Harry sighed. "C'mon Draco, I want a shower, and food." He stumbled towards the locker room, the rush of adrenaline from the Bludger attack fading.

Dobby was waiting for them, standing next to an irate looking Pansy when they emerged from the showers.

"He says he was just protecting 'Master Harry'. Won't tell me anything other than that." She crossed her arms, glowering at the small elf.

"Because that is all Dobby can do! Protect Master Harry from the terrible things..." his eyes widened and he ran headfirst into the wall.

"No!" smack "Dobby must not," smack.

"Dobby stop!" Draco ordered.

For a moment Dobby looked as though he would tear in two, he froze a hair's breadth away from the wall and slumped to the floor in a heap.

"Thank you, Master Draco," he squeaked.

"What terrible things, Dobby? Tell me." Draco said, his gaze leveled on the elf.

"I'm sorry," he grovelled, "I cannot. You must not..." his voice trailed off in a wail as he sobbed over Draco’s shoes.

Harry sighed, "I can't keep listening to that. Let's go find your father."

Dobby's wail cut off suddenly and he blew his nose loudly on the tea towel he wore. "Yes," he sniffed. "Dobby was sent to bring the Masters, and Miss to Mister Malfoy." He bounded off towards the school, leaving them to hurry behind him.

Lucius was waiting for them in a small, unused classroom. He gestured for them to sit, and settled onto the edge of the teacher's desk. "I'm sorry I didn't answer your letter sooner Draco," he began. "It's not... something I wanted to put in writing."


	12. The One With Mr Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuugh I am so sorry. Apparently I'm terrible at editing and posting every week. So, here's a nice long chapter, and I'm getting straight to work on the next one. I'll try and get the rest of this book published before the 25th...
> 
> Happy Christmas everyone :D

"Back, when I was at Hogwarts, a message was found, written on the walls in blood. Announcing the Chamber was opened. The message was the same, impossible to remove.”

“Impossible? You mean it’s still there?” Draco said.

Lucius frown at the interruption, but nodded. “Unless Dumbledore eventually figured it out, I imagine it’s still there. It was when I left school. Fourth floor, the dark corridor leading away from the Arthimancy classrooms to the West,” he added before Draco could ask. The young boy nodded and Harry filed the location away to go see for himself. “It used to lead back to the Great Hall, but after… the girl died. The school very nearly closed. But then, the attacks stopped. No one ever found out who was behind it, or why..."

He leaned back on the desk, large hands closing over the corner of the wood. His voice was tight as he continued. "If it was in my power, I would close the school now. Or, at the least, remove you three." Pushing off the desk, he closed his eyes. "Your mother insists as you are Pureblood, you are safe, even if the monster has been released," his hand settled on Draco's shoulder as he looked over at Harry sadly. "And the Ministry continues to deny my request..."

"And I'm sure Vernon and Petunia would shed buckets of tears if something were to happen to their dear nephew," Harry finished in a monotone voice. "Mr. Malfoy, if you can take Draco home, you should."

"I'm not going anywhere," Draco insisted. "Mother or not. If Harry can't leave, I'm staying too." He looked up at his father, "There's nothing else you can remember?"

Lucius shook his head. "It was never solved.”

Draco wrapped his arms around him. Lucius returned the hug fiercely, pulling Harry in as well. Pansy smiled at the three of them.

"My family is Pureblood for as far back as anyone can trace," she said, her lips pursing into a sad smile as they pulled apart. "We'll be alright, and we'll look out for each other, right?"

Draco and Harry nodded, Lucius looked slightly mollified as he stood. "I expect nothing less from Slytherins. There isn't much that I can do, but... if there is..."

"We'll owl you straight away."

"I'll be checking in on you, and if it gets worse, your mother or Ministry be damned, I'll take you both home. I'd like a moment with my son, if I could." He pulled Harry in for one final hug and straightened. His face grew solemn for a moment, before the mask slide into place. Clutching his cane in one hand, cloak folded over the other, he left the class room without another word, taking Draco with him.

"He's... different," Pansy commented. "From the parties and stuff."

"Yeah, Harry sighed. "Narcissa says that Malfoys act a certain way, and anything less than what people expect is a betrayal of the family."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking at him sadly. "At least he's nice in private? Could be worse, mmm?"

Harry nodded.

"You know, we’re going to have to go find the spot, where the message was written last time."

Pansy's expression sobered instantly and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Making their way through the quiet castle towards the Great Hall they kept their eyes open. Harry listened for any sound of the voice he'd heard before the last attack. Other than the sounds of their footsteps, the castle was quiet. They squeezed into their places at the Slytherin table, tucking into the food eagerly.

"Where's Draco," Harry mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Pansy looked around, scanning the faces of those at their table. "I don't see him, maybe Mr. Malfoy arranged for them to have dinner together?"

Harry felt his stomach clench at being left out. He wasn't adopted by the Malfoys, but he knew that Lucius was trying to. Still, he wasn't their son. And if the Ministry did agree, he wouldn't be their son properly. it made sense, with everything going on at school that Lucius would want time alone with his heir.

He pushed his plate away, no longer hungry.

"Harry?" Pansy looked up at him with a frown. "Where are you going?"

"Bed," he said quietly. "It's been a long day."

He left the Great Hall, his feet carrying him absently through the corridors of the castle. It was... too much. Hogwarts was his home. The idea of a monster, controlled by the heir of one of the Founders, of his own house, was stalking the halls, had killed before. And now was threatening to kill again. An icy hand closed around his heart.

Somehow, he made it back to the dungeons, and changed into his pyjamas. Sliding under the covers with a shiver, he set his glasses on the side table. With a wave of his wand he pulled the curtains closed and buried his head in the pillows. Dumbledore might be many things, but surely he wouldn't allow the school to remain open if students were being killed? Then where would he go? To the Dursley's?

The hand tightened its grip around Harry's heart painfully. He'd only survived the summer with the promise of escape. If Hogwarts closed... maybe forever. Where would he go? The thought swam around his mind as he fell to sleep.

The tone of the castle was dark, students hurried to and from classes in small groups, casting suspicious glances at those from other houses. But no one had it worse than the Slytherins.

Knowing that their founder was Salazaar himself had always been a badge of pride. He was not, history stated, necessarily an evil wizard, despite his pure blood beliefs. Nothing compared to, say, Voldemort. And yet Slytherin students found themselves increasingly the victims of attacks and snide remarks from the other houses.

The teachers, for their part, seemed content to let it go, so long as no actual hard was done. Ripped bags, missing textbooks, or destroyed homework seemed par for the course. Harry frowned up at Dumbledore as he sat, picking at his breakfast.

It had been several weeks without an attack, and while the general mood of the castle has lightened somewhat, the anti-Slytherin sentiment was strong. Tearing his gaze from the Headmaster, Harry settled on Draco. The blond boy was hunched over his plate, poking the last piece of sausage around a pool of egg yolk, and leaning on his fist.

The attacks on Slytherin seemed to hit Draco strongest out of them all. Weasley in particular enjoyed rubbing his face in it. He hadn't been sleeping, dark circles marred his pale face.

Harry frowned. The Malfoy boy had refused to talk to him about it, shrugging off any concern and insisting that he was fine. He was going to bed early, spending most of his free time working on his homework in the Common Room, and rarely leaving the dungeons except for class and meals. The latter of which he'd taken to skipping. It was only on threat of going to Madame Pomfrey, or worse, Snape, that he'd agreed to come to breakfast.

"Children!" Lockhart stood, clapping his hands suddenly. The chatter stopped. "If I might have your attention. I know," he pulled his face into what was supposed to have been a sympathetic smile, "that many of you are afraid of the monster that stalks the halls. Worrying at night over what might be lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce!"

One of the first years at the Hufflepuff table shrieked, fainting dramatically out of her chair.

"Fear not," he beamed at them. "Because I have just now, offered my services beyond that of a teacher, to your Headmaster." He paused, clearly waiting for applause, although only a smattering of students seemed to be paying attention at this point. "That's right, boys and girls. I, Gilderoy Lockhart, order of Merlin - third class- will be protecting Hogwarts against this foul creature. Sleep well, safe in your beds. Knowing that no harm will come to you whilst I am in the castle."

Harry blinked, Dumbledore was nodding along, his attention fixed on Lockhart. He couldn't be serious. Lockhart was the school's defender? Whatever it was in the Chamber, whatever had been loosed. Unless it was a mad woman in curlers, and even there he wasn't entirely sure, there was no way Lockhart was going to save them from it. Harry dared at glance over at Snape.

The Potions master had a death grip on his fork, and something about the way he held it made Harry think that it wasn't the fork he wished he hand. The older man's dark eyes were murderous, and for a brief moment Harry nearly pitied Lockhart. Not only had the man taken the class that Severus wanted to teach but this...

"And to that end," Harry's attention wandered back to Lockhart's speech. "I've decided to host a little dueling club. Nothing serious I assure you, just a bit of training and practice. You won't need it, not while I'm here, but even I cannot protect all of you in this big wide world. A sign up sheet has been placed just outside the hall..."

Whatever he was going to say next had been drowned out by the stampede of students rushing for the door. Boys and girls from every house, although Harry was pleased to note that of the Slytherins it was only a few first years... and Crabbe? He snorted. Until Pansy pulled on his arm.

"Come on, we can sign up before class."

"You're joking," he said, looking

"Not at all," she grinned, grabbing her bag. "This is going to be the most amazing thing I've seen all year. You think I'm going to miss it?"

Harry grinned, "Alright, let's go. We're signing you up too Draco," he called over his shoulder. Malfoy waved him off. "Whatever," he said as they pushed through the crowd of students trying to sign up. "I'm signing him up anyway, he needs to do something other than mope. It's not like everyone loved Slytherins before."

Pansy had a way of moving through crowds. He was never quite sure how she managed, but a simple touch of her hand on someone's shoulder had them moving out of her way. The sea of robes parted, letting them move up to the front. "No, but he seems to be taking this one personal. Probably best to just let him mope, we'll have our Draco back soon enough." She wrote their names on the parchment with a flourish, smiling sweetly at those behind them in line as they made their way out.

"I hope so, if he doesn't snap out of it soon I'm really am going to tell Madame Pomfrey."

Pansy nodded, "I don't like the idea of turning him in, but I agree. Let's give him til Christmas break, he's staying, right?"

"Yeah, we both are. Mr. Malfoy wanted us home, but apparently Mrs. Malfoy insists they go to Prague or something. I don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

"How she gets to make all the decisions. Doesn't the man normally do that?"

Pansy rounded on him, silver eyes flashing. "Harry Potter, that was the most obnoxious thing I've ever heard you say. The man... making all the decisions!"

Harry held his hands up in surrender, "No, no... I didn't. Not like that. I meant, " he sighed. "I'm sorry, that sounded awful, I know. What I meant was, she seems to do whatever she likes, and he just has to follow her around. When he's alone... he seems stronger than that, I don't know," he finished lamely. His words had fallen all over each other. But something about the relationship bothered him.

It wasn't that Petunia and Dursley had some great marriage that he aspired to, or held others up to, and that was the only other married couple he knew. But, there was something about Lucius and Narcissa that bothered him. He couldn't put his finger on it, or express it, apparently. Even so, Pansy nodded.

"I know what you mean. I wish," she sighed. "It doesn't matter. Mr. Malfoy seems, happy enough, I guess. It works for them. I know it was an arranged marriage," she waved a hand absently at him as he sputtered. "Most pureblood weddings are, even now. I'll bet she already has someone picked out for Draco, although they usually don't tell us until our sixteenth birthday. Sometimes sooner, my parents promised to tell me next year, so long as I didn't go running to him without their permission."

Harry stared at her. "Arranged marriage? That's... no. Not nowadays."

Pansy shrugged. "You might have noticed the wizarding world isn't exactly ahead of the times. It's not so bad. I guess."

An arranged marriage still didn't answer the question of what was so strange about the dynamic in Lucius and Narcissa’s relationship. But Professor McGonagall was standing at the front of the class when they entered, effectively eliminating all conversation. They slipped into their seats, frowning when they realized that Draco hadn't come to class, and nodded, an unspoken agreement to find him after, even if it meant skipping their next class.


	13. The One With the First Corridor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's Eve everyone! Here's a chapter for you <3

They searched the castle, searching every empty classroom and passage they knew of. "This isn't going to work; we need to split up."

Harry sighed. "Meet back in the Common Room before curfew?" Pansy nodded and took off down the hall, her shoes echoing softly. Frowning, he looked down both corridors and decided to head towards the kitchens.

At the sound of voices up ahead Harry slowed. He recognized Professor Dumbledore and several of the other teachers. Wishing he'd thought to bring his invisibility cloak he pressed himself into the alcove, praying they'd be too preoccupied to notice him.

A cot, levitated from a spell cast from the tip of Pomfrey's wand preceded the group down the hall. Harry managed a glimpse of a small first year, Petrified. Once the teachers had past he crept slowly behind them, ears straining to listen into their conversation.

"Another?" Professor McGonagall met them just outside the Hospital Wing.

"I'm afraid so, a young Gryffindor." Dumbledore glanced around before ushering them into the infirmary. Harry rushed to the door, waiting a few beats before nudging it open a crack.

Pomfrey was carefully prying a strange looking object from the boy's hand. A camera.

"Perhaps," she mused, "He was able to take a picture? Some clue?"

Dumbledore's eyes glittered over the tops of his half-moon glasses as he took the camera from her. He cast a few, quick charms over the device before carefully cracking the back hinge open. The room filled with a puff of smoke.

"What happened Albus?"

A sick feeling sank into Harry's stomach. McGonagall sounded scared. Not just upset, or even nervous, but actually frightened. The idea that a teacher, let alone the seemingly unflappable Professor McGonagall, was afraid terrified him. His hand clenched the door frame, knuckles white.

"The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again."

"What does that mean?"

Dumbledore frowned, waving away the smoke and peering down at the camera. "That Hogwarts is not as safe as we once thought."

The room was silent for a long while, except for the sound of Pomfrey moving around the beds, checking on her wards.

"Well there's nothing to do for it then," McGonagall dusted off her robes and straightened her spine. "I shall inform the parents that Hogwarts is closed. And begin to make arra-"

"No."

Harry blinked. The idea that Hogwarts was closing was a punch to the gut. The only place that had ever felt like home, felt real. He couldn't imagine losing it, but if the school wasn't safe. Was Dumbledore really going to permit the school to stay open?

"We have never closed the school before, and we will not do so now. I am sure that someone will find this monster, and save us all."

For a brief moment, Dumbledore's eyes shifted towards the door. Harry froze, hoping that the shadows were enough to hide the small crack through which he was listening. As soon as his gaze returned to McGonagall Harry fled, not caring about the rest of the conversation.

He ran all the way back to the Slytherin common room, throwing himself on one of the chairs by the fire. It was there that Pansy and Draco found him, shivering, sometime later. They immediately dropped into the chair on either side of him, demanding to know what had happened.

Stammering, hardly able to make sense of it himself, he told them about the second attack, and what Dumbledore had said.

"Harry, you can't think he meant... for you." Pansy said, her face pale.

"I think that's exactly what he meant. He knew I was there; he was telling me. If I don't figure it out, find the monster, the school will close. And I will have to go back to the Dursley's."

"I am not going to let that happen," Draco said, tightening his arm around Harry's shoulder. "I don't care what the Ministry says. We'll figure something out. Father will pay the right people."

Pansy nodded, resting her head on Harry's shoulder. Suddenly Harry sat up straight, “I want to see the message.”

The other two looked at him completely confused. “The one from when Mr. Malfoy was at school. I have a suspicion. Wait here.” Harry darted to his rooms, returning with the Invisibility Cloak tucked under his arm. Word began to spread of the attack and the Common Room soon erupted into as much chaos as Harry had ever seen. Taking advantage of the commotion, the three slipped out of the dungeon and into the school, quickly covering themselves with the Cloak.

They found the hall Lucius had mentioned. It was dark, the torches had been removed, and the walls covered in tapestries and paintings. Harry threw off the Cloak and raised his wand.

“Lumos.” The other two followed soon, bathing the walls in soft wandlight. They started pulling down the hangings, setting the paintings on the cold stone floor, until the walls were bare.

“Are you sure?” Pansy asked, looking around.

“This is where my dad said,” Draco narrowed his eyes, holding his wand up to the brick wall.

Harry lifted his wand, spinning around. “It’s the right place, but the writing is gone.” He frowned, eyes searching the stone. “So, Dumbledore, or someone… could remove the writing before. And they can’t this time?”

Pansy runs her fingers through her hair, looking frustrated. She stomped her foot and practically growled. “He’s playing you, Harry. This whole thing stinks.”

“Are we sure Dumbledore wasn’t in Slytherin?” Draco asked, leaning up against the wall. “I mean… really. What kind of sick bastard pits a second year against some thousand-year-old monster?”

“The same kind who puts a first year up against the Dark Lord, Mr Malfoy,” Severus’ voice floated down the hall.

The three jumped at the sound of their Head of House’s voice, shifting guiltily among the paintings and tapestries removed from the walls. Severus flicked his wand and the displaced items floated up into their original positions. “My office, after breakfast tomorrow.” He turned to leave them.

“I trust you can return to the dungeons without forcing another teacher to take points,” his eyes flicked to the abandoned Invisibility Cloak. Without waiting for a response he strode down the hall, black robes billowing in his wake.


	14. The One with the Duelling Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Go me :D

Word had clearly gotten around about the second attack the next morning as they went for breakfast. Half of the Hufflepuffs stood and fled as soon as Harry and Draco entered the Hall. Pansy watched them, her eyes flashing with disgust as the whispering began, and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"You know, all these people betting it's one of you two," she piled some berries on top of her yogurt, adding a touch of honey. "I'm almost offended no one thinks it's me. I look incredible in green and silver."

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice and looked at her. "You'd honestly want them to think it was you?"

"Why not," she said, shrugging. "I know I'm not, but it'd be nice to have that kind of sway. Imagine what you could get done with that level of intimidation over most of the school?” She paused, spoon half way to her mouth, as they stared at her in horror. “Slytheriiiin~” she reminded them in a sing-song voice. Honestly, you two…” 

Harry could barely eat, and from the look of things, neither could Draco. Only Pansy sat, happily smiling and waving to students obviously giving the pair of suspects a wide berth. When she finished the three made their way out of the Hall, back towards Severus’ office.

“I have told Harry this, and I am under no illusions that he has not told the two of you,” he began when they were seated in his office. When they nodded guiltily he continued. “Dumbledore is a masterful chess player. He takes his time, moving the pieces, saving up each one. But make no mistake, when the time comes he will sacrifice anything to ensure victory.”

Draco and Pansy turned to look at Harry, Severus’ dark eyes were already fixed on him as he squirmed in his chair.

“I’m not going to let that happen, Harry. But I must warn you, sneaking out after curfew only increases the likelihood that you will fall right into the trap the Headmaster has set. You are a Slytherin, act like it.”

“Yes sir,” Harry muttered.

“I realize,” he said, his eyes flicking to each of them in turn. “That it is tempting to solve the mystery. But I must urge you,” he drawled. “To leave it be.” At their protests he raised a hand. “Dumbledore is playing a game; would you rather be his pawns?”

“No,” Harry answered for them.

“Keep your heads about you, we will do what we can.” He dismissed them with a wave of his long, slender hand.

For the rest of the day student scattered when they saw Harry and his friends coming. Those that didn't run, stood their ground, glaring at him. A few held up home made looking amulets and talismans, muttering under their breath to ward them off.

"Oh please," Pansy said, leaning forward and leering at one of the first years who held up a cross. "He's not a vampire. He's the heir of Slytherin!"

The Great hall was packed when they arrived, students from first years, right up to seventh milled around a large platform that had been set up in the center of the room. It was covered with shiny silver runes and symbols. Pansy walked up, eyeing them curiously.

"For show," she said with a sniff. "Honestly, couldn't even get that bit right."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, pulling Draco through the crowd with him.

It had taken a bit of effort to get Draco to agree to come. He'd wanted to go to bed, but Pansy informed him that if he were to fall asleep now, he would wake up with neon hair, possibly not all of the same color. Something in the way she held herself had Harry inclined to believe she would do exactly as she threatened. Apparently Draco felt the same way, he'd stood up and eagerly led them back to the great all.

Now that he was here, he seemed reluctant. His silver eyes eyeing the door.

"I mean, a proper duelling platform has spells and enchantments woven into it. Stuff to prevent people from getting seriously hurt. From using spells that aren't allowed. Although, there's a limit on the latter. Mostly people reply on honor, and fairness in the duels."

"I wonder who he's got to demonstrate with him. You don't think he'd use a student, do you?"

Harry was about to respond that he absolutely believed that Lockhart would use a student to demonstrate dangerous spells on, when a scream started at the back of the group. He whirled, expecting to feel the cold presence of the voice in his chest at any moment. Instead, several girls started fanning themselves as Lockhart strode into the room.

He was wearing a large, satin lavender cloak, slung jauntily over his shoulder. Underneath, his robes were a shocking color of puce. But, that wasn't the most shocking part. Behind him, strode Severus Snape. Instead of his long, billowing robes, he wore well fitting black slacks, and a tight vest over a dark silver shirt. His long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail.

"Is that... no..."

"Welcome, welcome, boys and girls. Thank you all for coming. Before we begin, a special hand to Professor Snape who has sportingly agreed to help me with a few demonstrations and to watch your wand work. After all, I can't be everywhere at once, no matter how many witches have tried." He laughed, sounding more like a hyena and Draco and Harry rolled their eyes.

"Oh, this is... brilliant. I hope they duel each other. I bet Snape will kill him."

Harry recalled the look that Severus had given Lockhart that morning, and back the first day of classes when they announced that he’d be taking the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. A small part of Harry was inclined to agree. If not kill, perhaps severely maim.

Harry imagined it was rather likely Snape knew several ways to permanently incapacitate something without murdering them. The thought startled him, but as he watched the Potions Master stalk onto the platform, he didn't disagree.

"Now, the first spell we're going to show you, is a simple disarming charm. Quite simple, but there's not much an opponent can do without their wand now is there.?"

"Seriously?" Harry said, muttering under his breath. "Without my wand I could still punch him in that large mouth of his."

Draco clapped a hand over Harry's mouth, and another over his own as the burst out giggling. On the platform, Lockhart continued.

"The spell for this one is 'Expelliarmus. ' To show you how it works, Professor Snape and I will square off, and see which can disarm the other first.”

"On the count of three, professor." Lockhart turned away, tugging on the cord that held his cloak around his shoulders, and pulled it off. He threw the cloak into the crowd, smiling widely at the group of girls who swarmed to the spot, fighting over who would get to keep it. As a large, dark haired girl emerged the victor he faced Snape, bowing low to the ground with his hands out the sides.

Snape returned the bow with a curt nod of his head, his wand already in his hand.

"One, Two..."

The moment Lockhart said 'three' he began moving his wand in a series of complicated movements. Brandishing it in the air.

Snape, on the other hand, twirled his wand in a tight circle, his silky voice carrying through the room. "Expelliarmus." Lockhart's wand flew across the room, clattering uselessly to the floor. Harry, Draco, Pansy and the rest of the Slytherins burst into applause. Professor Snape stood, his dark eyes looking over Lockhart in disgust.

"I think, perhaps, it would be more beneficial, if we were to teach the students how to block spells, first. A shield charm, I think."

Lockhart scurried off the stage to retrieve his wand. "Of course," he said, breathing heavily as he climbed back up. "After all, it was rather obvious which spell you were about to cast. It would have been only too easy to deflect it again. I just wanted to show the students how the spell worked, and of course, " he beamed, "I didn't want to unleash my full abilities on you, it is, after all, only a friendly match… just for show."

Harry would never figure out exactly how Snape managed to stop himself from killing Lockhart then and there. Perhaps it was the witnesses? Snape's grip on his wand practically snapped the piece of wood in half and the audience held their breath, waiting to see what would happen.

"Right, let's have a demonstration from two students in the audience. Can I have a volunteer?" He scanned the group of students until his eyes landed on Harry. Smiling broadly, "Of course, Harry Potter." He waved him up, "Now, now, come, come. We won't let you hurt anyone. And we all know that no one where is a match for you. The Boy Who Lived won't be taken down by a mere student, not after he defeated He Who Must Not Be Named."

Harry gritted his teeth, glaring angrily at Lockhart as he was pulled up onto the platform.

"And another one, perhaps from a different house?" No one lifted their hands. Lockhart frowned. "Ahh, Mr. Weasley. Come, thank you for volunteering."

The two boys took their places opposite each other. Harry adjusted his grip on his wand. "Disarm only, remember. Expelliarmus, of course." Harry studied the younger Weasley. There was no chance he was casting disarm, not the way he held his wand. And... was it broken? His eyes shifted to Snape who stood at the side, his arms crossed, watching impassively. Apparently he was on his own.

"One, two, three,"

“Serpentsortia!” A large black snake shot out of the tip of Ron's wand. Several girls in the front row screamed, pushing back.

"Now I really... that's quite alright. I'll handle this." Lockhart stepped in front of Harry’s wand, blocking his view, and waved his wand at the serpent, mumbling something unintelligible in Latin? The snake shot towards the ceiling, landing in front of Harry with a thud.

It hissed raising its head and looking around, making its way towards the edge of the stage.

 _Stop_ Harry hissed at the snaked.

It turned, fixing its unblinking eyes on Harry, before turning back towards the students, frozen with fright.

 _I said, stop_ he hissed again. The snake hesitated stiffening its entire body as though ready to strike, but it waited.

"Enough!" Snape bellowed, his wand pointed at the snake. "Evanesca!" A stream of white light collided with the serpent and it vanished. "Mr. Potter, come with me, Now."

Severus' voice was tight as he whirled away from Lockhart who stood sputtering nervously. Harry looked over at Pansy and Draco, both white as a sheet, before turning to follow the Potion's Master out of the hall.


	15. The One with the Aftermath - Pt1

“Harry," Severus' voice was tight. He hadn't spoken a word after they left the Great Hall. Harry realized they were heading towards the older man's office and followed him, each step pounding in his ear.

He'd done something wrong he was sure of it, but he wasn't exactly sure what it was. Snape's refusal to talk wasn't worrying of itself, he rarely spoke in the halls Harry noticed. Choosing instead to speak to people one on one.

But when they had reached the quiet of his office, he'd sat down, shaking his hair out of the pony tail, then stood up and began pacing. After several long moments, he walked to the door on the far side of the room. Still, saying nothing, he opened the door, holding it out for Harry to enter first.

A fire was already started in the hearth, Severus conjured a second chair silently, and sat down, motioning for Harry to join him.

"Harry," he fixed the younger boy with a pointed stare. "How long have you known you were a Parseltongue?"

"I... what?" said Harry, confused.

"A Parseltongue, or Parselmouth. Someone who can speak to snakes."

"Oh that," Harry slumped back into his chair feeling a little relieved. "Just before I came to school, the first year. I was at the zoo, and talked to a Python there. It's not a big deal, why?"

Instead of answering, Severus leaned forward. His elbows resting on his knees and his fingers pressed together in front of his face. He turned his head to the side, looking away from Harry and fixing his gaze on the fire. Resting his head on his hands he spoke softly. "It's not common, for someone to speak the language of serpents. It's never been very wide-spread, but in the last several hundred years only a handful of witches and wizards have possessed the gift."

"Language of... serp- of snakes/?"

"Yes, Harry," Severus seemed irritated at being cut off. Harry pressed his mouth together, letting the man speak.

"That handful of witches and wizards were, without exception, some of the darkest magic users of their time. The Dark Lord, for example, possessed an uncommonly ability to converse with serpents and the like. "

He trailed off, but something in the way the silence hung between them kept Harry quiet. There was more, something the professor wasn't telling him. What did it matter that a bunch of dead witches and wizards could speak to snakes, or were bad, or good?

When Severus turned from the fire, his face was as unmasked as Harry had every seen it. The sharp, cold lines had softened only slightly, and Harry realized with a start that Severus was not an old man. Why the thought crossed his mind he wasn't sure. but his mind raced to try and figure out what was going on. Clinging onto that solid bit of information like a life raft.

Severus reached out a hand, resting it on Harry's shoulder as he leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes as if searching for something. "Harry," his voice was low, "Is there anything, anything at all you want to tell me?"

They: he, the twins, Draco and Pansy, had decided against telling any teachers about the fact that Harry had heard strange voices in the halls talking about killing and eating before the attacks. Hearing voices was, as Pansy had pointed out, not often associated with a stable mind.

"Besides~" George had piped up with a grin. "They might think you're barking mad."

Pansy had sniffed, but agreed that it was an accurate assumption. While they all hurried to assure him that they didn't think he was crazy, each one of them seemed rather adamant that he not tell anyone about the voice.

Harry swallowed thickly. Severus watched him, intelligent eyes categorizing every move Harry made. Looking at him, the concern hidden behind the dark gaze, Harry decided to trust him.

"I've, been hearing voices, in the halls. It's a cold, raspy voice. It talks about killing, and being hungry. Everything feels dark..."

"Like you'll never be happy again?" Severus' voice was sharp as he asked.

“No, no it doesn't make me sad, just... scared."

The potion master seemed relieved, although the expression only crossed his face a brief moment before he frowned again.

"When did you hear the voice Harry? What did it say?"

Harry bit his lip. "At the beginning of term, right before Mrs. Norris was petrified, and then again before... Collin." He flinched, waiting for the profession to explode.

Instead, Severus sat back in his chair, Harry's shoulder throbbed where the bony fingers had dug in. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He didn't have an answer. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "I didn't want to think about it. Didn't want it to be important."

Severus nodded slowly, his gaze fixed elsewhere. "I'm afraid, it is important."

He turned his head, looking at Harry sadly. "The most famous Parselmouth in the world, was named Salazaar Slytherin."

Harry 's eyes widened and he looked at his professor, stunned. "No, that can't. It's not." He stood up, "I'm not related to Salazaar Slytherin, I can't be." Without waiting for an answer he fled Snape's private office and burst through the classroom, not paying attention to the students gathered outside.

Later, it would register that it was strange for a group of students to be outside Snape's classroom after dinner. But at the moment all he could think about was getting as far away as he could.

He entertained the idea of going back to the dormitory, packing a bag, leaving the castle. But, where would he go? He was underage, even by wizard standards. And going back to the Dursley's was not an option. The Malfoy’s perhaps? Harry gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the hard stone wall.

His feet carried him through the halls. His mind racing with where he could go, how it would work. Could he live in Muggle London? How did the Trace work? If he could use magic, perhaps he could find a place to live, keep to himself... maybe leave England all together.

It was ridiculous, all of it. He slumped to the floor outside the owlry, ignoring the startled looks from the birds inside. There was no way he could be related to Salazaar Slytherin. He wasn't the heir, and he hadn't opened the Chamber. It was crazy to even think about it. But, his mind slowly started putting the pieces together. It would seem that more than a few of the inhabitants of the castle thought that. Did Snape?

He couldn't decipher the strange looks on the man's face before he'd fled. Snape hadn't accused him, not exactly. But he'd not rushed to deny it either. Did his Head of House think that he was the one attacking people? Writing messages on the wall? It was ... it couldn't. But, he'd not chased after him, had he.

Harry pulled his legs towards his chest, curling himself into a ball and finally letting it out. The tears poured down his cheeks. For the first time since he'd arrived, even with all the attacks, Hogwarts didn't feel like home. Something, had changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Our poor Harry... second year really was rough :( Even in Slytherin.
> 
> Love hearing feedback from readers, so please feel free to leave a comment good or bad (although constructive is preferred!) It really encourages me to keep going <3


	16. The One with the Aftermath Pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, with just a wee little bit of Snarry-ness. I couldn't help myself okay?! Totally G-rated, but I hope the Snarry fans will like it.

Harry woke up frozen almost solid. He groaned, struggling to stand, and dusted off a layer of frost from his robes. Blowing on his glasses to unfreeze them, he settled them on his face and looked out over the grounds. Hogwarts had transformed overnight. Whereas the day before had been cool, with the wonderful crisp feeling that was fall. This morning, it was a winter wonderland. Snow covered everything, the outer buildings of the school were white lumps.

Harry sighed, even the beauty of the snow covered grounds couldn’t erase the feelings that had driven him up to the astronomy tower after his meeting with Snape. He was a Parselmouth, a dark gift. Passed onto him by his great, great, grandfather?

No, it was ridiculous. He was not the heir of Slytherin. If he was opening the Chamber, he would know, wouldn’t he? He glanced at the clock as he made his way through the castle towards the dungeons. He’d missed breakfast, not that he was hungry. But if he hurried he could grab his school books before class.

There were classes you could sleep through, classes you could skip, and classes where you arrived early with everything in place and your attention focused the entire time. That was Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, was easily the strictest teacher at Hogwarts excepting perhaps Professor Snape. Harry thought he could have liked her, perhaps, but she seemed determined to keep her distance from him. Spending little time with him as she moved through the class, offering help to the students.

He stumbled into the dorms and ran straight into Pansy. “Harry!” she said, looking him over and brushing the frost off his shoulders. “Where have you been! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Didn’t want to talk to anyone,” he said, pushing past her towards the boys’ dormitories. “I need to get my stuff.”

“Ugh,” she moved out of his way. “Between you and Draco… I think I need to find new friends.” She flipped her hair off her shoulder and started to walk away. “When you come to your senses, you know where to find me.”

Harry watched her go and sighed. He didn’t know what was up with Draco, the blond boy had been increasingly taciturn. But it didn’t seem particularly important when it was compared to the fact that most of the school thought he was the Heir of Slytherin and had been setting a monster loose in the castle, setting it to attack students.

Leaving early and taking the longer way around to the Transfiguration classroom meant he arrived with little time to spare. Pulling out his parchment he began copying the board before Professor McGonagall stood to speak. He only paid half-attention through the class, knowing full well he'd regret it later. She stood, waving her wand and sending water goblets to each of the desks from a shelf against the back wall of the class room.

"Right, now... with me. One, two, three - "

A Ravenclaw seventh year opened the door, ignoring the strange looks from the class and walking up to Professor McGonagall, handing her a note. After reading it, and then again with her glasses perched at the edge of her nose, she cleared her throat.

"All students are to return to their Common Rooms at once. You will be escorted there by Miss Clearwater, no one is to venture out on their own, is that understood? Once you reach your dormitories, all students are to remain there and wait for further instructions for your head of House. Please pack up your things."

She swept from the classroom, pointedly refusing to look at anyone who raised their hand, and feigning deafness at the shouted questions. The moment she closed the door, pandemonium broke out. Half the students were shouting questions at the Ravenclaw prefect, the others were talking loudly amongst themselves, hurriedly packing away their books and waiting nervously for her to lead them back to the Common Rooms.

Penelope Clearwater refused to answer any of their questions. Saying she'd been asked to take them to their dorms at that was it. There wasn't anything else she knew. As they made their way through the castle, first to the Gryffindor common room, and then to Ravenclaw tower, they saw other groups of students being led by prefects.

No where was there a teacher to be found. Even when they finally reached the Common Room. Harry had been expecting Snape to be waiting for them with instructions, comfort seemed a bit much to ask, but his absence felt, wrong. No one felt much like doing anything, or being alone. They milled about the room, a few making half-hearted attempts at homework, or playing Exploding Snap. For the most part they sat in small clumps, wondering about what had happened, who'd been attacked.

After an hour, one of the first years started to cry. Gemma crossed over, holding the child in a hug and murmuring softly.

Harry was getting anxious. This waiting was just asking for trouble. He eyed the door, wondering if anyone would stop him if he tried to leave. Finally, he stood, having decided just to go for it, when Snape burst through the door.

The man looked horrible. A strange stirring in his stomach as he remembered the way the Potions Master had looked. Strong, powerful. Not at all like the gaunt figure that strode into the center of the room. His pale face was marred with dark circles under the eyes, his normally sharp features looked hollow and wane.

"Harry Potter," he called, his throat hoarse as his eyes scanned the room. They settled on Harry as he stepped forward, taking in the nervous looking boy. "Everyone else is to remain here. Mr. Potter, come with me." Without waiting for any response he grabbed the neck of Harry's robes and pulled him out of the Common Room into the castle.

They didn't stop until they'd pressed deeper into the dungeons and were once again in Severus' office. This time, the older man cast several charms over the door. Harry watched as layer upon layer of translucent magic was laid over the room.

Finally, seeming satisfied, he dropped into the chair. The hearth cold, lack of light giving the room a dark, oppressive tone that seemed to suit its owner perfectly. Carefully, Harry lowered himself into the other chair,

"Professor?"

"Where were you, this afternoon. I've been informed that you missed supper. And no one can recall seeing you at in the dormitories."

Harry paled, it was not the first time he'd had this conversation with Snape, but last time he'd run out. His eyes flicked to the door, aware of the layers of magic over it. Were they intended to lock him in?

"I, wasn't feeling well. I went to the Hospital Wing to lie down."

"Do not lie to me, Mr. Potter." Snape's voice was silky smooth, and crawled over Harry like ice. "I was in the Hospital Wing this afternoon, and I can assure you, that you were no where to be found."

"What I mean is, I meant to go, uhh, sir," Harry said, swallowing nervously.

" Another student has been petrified. I will ask you one more time. Where. Were. You?" Each word of the question pressed into Harry's skull, pounding in his mind as he gripped the sides of the chair.

Harry closed his eyes. FREAK! He could see the students rushing away as he approached. The horror in their eyes when he'd spoken to the snake. LOSER! His throat closed as he remembered Pansy turning away from him, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"I..." he gasped for air.

He shifted, his trainers scuffing against the floor as his hands held onto the arms of the chair for dear life. His heart seemed to be in his stomach and throat at once, the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears. Desperately he looked around the room for something to focus on, to take his mind off the feeling in his chest.

The music box, that Snape had played the recording of his mother on. FREAK he heard the words in her voice. The soft laugh from the record, twisted into a mocking tone.

The walls of the room seemed to close in, pressing towards him until it was only he and Snape. The older man's gaze cold and calculating. He heard the voice, that voice

Kill... rip.... tear... flesh from the skin....

"NO!" he screamed, his hands over his ears trying desperately block out the sound.

So... hungry... kill... kill... kill...

Harry fell out of the chair, collapsing in front of the fire. "I'm not a freak!" he sobbed, rocking himself frantically. "I'm not... I'm not a freak..." and then the room spun, and went back.

When Harry awoke he felt two arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides and rocking with him. A soft shushing in his ear. His eyes stung, feeling link sandpaper as he blinked. And as he tried to look around the room, everything was blurry. His glasses, were gone.

But none of that mattered. He felt the arms tighten around him as he moved, holding him and he started to struggle. "Shhh, Harry." Severus Snape's voice was in his ear. No longer cold, distance, but soft and comforting. "You're ok, I've got you."

Harry's ears burned as Snape held him tight. But even as his face colored with embarrassment he felt his racing heart slow. Only when it was steady for several minutes, did the arms release him and he felt the solid, lean body move back. He kept his head bowed, feeling nervous, as he heard the Potions Master stand and move around the room until he was kneeling in front of Harry.

The fire had been lit and its soft orange glow transformed the room, even if the flames did little to transform the gaunt appearance of Severus. He held both of his hands out to Harry. In one, his glasses. Harry accepted them gratefully and put them on, thankful and cursing that he could see clearly now. Severus' dark eyes were on his face, seemingly completely unaffected by that fact that just moments before he had his arms around the other.

In his other hand, a glass of amber liquid. It glowed softly in the firelight, and swirled, releasing the soft smell of chamomile and something else he could not identify. "Drink it Harry, it's just tea, with a few herbs I use myself..." Severus hesitated a moment. "For panic attacks."

Harry took the glass, sniffing at it and taking an experimental sip. Finding it sweet, the warm flavors spreading down to his toes, he took a larger gulp and swallowed before asking, "Panic attack?"

Severus settled onto the floor in front of the chair, leaning easily against it, close to Harry but not touching. "Yes, I am no doctor, but your symptoms seem similar to my own."

"I don't..."

The older man shushed him, pointing to the glass. "Drink," he ordered. After watching Harry take another sip he turned his gaze to the fire, although Harry sensed the man's attention was still on him. Long, bony fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and he took several deep breaths. "Harry, forgive me."

"Forgive you, sir?"

"I... did not handle that well."

Harry blinked at him, his face blushing as he remembered the man's arms around him and how safe he felt. He thought the Potion's Master had handled his panic attack perfectly.

"I should not have called you here like that. I was... stressed."

"Ahh," Harry said, so soft he wasn't sure Severus heard him.

"It is the opinion of the teachers that the person responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets, the Heir of Slytherin, is... naturally, from Slytherin." His eyes darted to Harry as if assessing whether the conversation would be too much. Apparently satisfied that answers trumped any remaining anxiety, he continued.

"It is difficult to fault their logic, there are... traits, of my house that I wish it did not possess. Certain, repercussions to some of the more admirable aspects. It would seem likely that the Heir is in fact, one of your peers."

"You thought it was me?" Harry's voice sounded small as he pulled his legs up to his chest, leaning back against the chair and wrapping his arms around the glass.

Snape looked at him, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. "I... am sorry Harry. I had been fooled before. Foolish mistakes." He stopped and sighed. "No, I didn't think it was you. But there are those among the staff who do. And there are those with… other motivations. And because of circumstances out of my control, I am not permitted to always speak my mind, or do as I wish." He waved a hand. "No, it is personal and not something I am going to discuss with a student."

Harry nodded, taking a final sip from the glass, he curled his arms around his legs. "Then..."

"Dumbledore wants me to bring you to speak with him."

Harry trembled, his face going pale.

"Do you fear the man that much?" Severus narrowed his eyes watching Harry carefully.

"There, was something I meant to tell you, sir. Something I heard Dumbledore say when they brought that Gryffindor in to the Hospital Wing."

Severus' expression solidified, all hints of emotions or feelings leaving as he nodded. "What is it."

"I think Dumbledore wishes for me to fight the monster. He was telling Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall that the school was not safe. She wanted to close the school, send the students home. But... he said that he was certain there was someone who could put a stop to it. He looked right at me when he said it, sir."

The noise from Severus' throat was beyond angry. For several moments the Potions Master kept his eyes closed, trying to steady his breathing before he responded.

"That may be true," he said, his voice pinched. "However there is one other person that may be able to stop the monster. I imagine, that you are aware the Chamber was opened one other time? And that when it was opened, a girl died."

Harry nodded, swallowing thickly.

"A student was determined responsible. His wand was taken, broken, and he was forbidden from ever purchasing another. However, that student later returned to the school, and was given a position on the staff by Albus Dumbledore."

Harry's green eyes opened wide, staring in horror at Severus. "Dumbledore let a murderer teach at the school? Who?"

"The caretaker, Hagrid." He held up a hand, "When I left Dumbledore’s office, a man from the Ministry of Magic had arrived to take Hagrid into custody. To be imprisoned in Azkaban until further notice."

"But then... why does Dumbledore want me?"

"I do not know the answer to that, Harry. I am certain that whatever reason Albus told me, there is at least three others besides." He sighed pinching his nose again. "Rather than having you face him, not knowing what to expect, I wanted to have a word with you privately. But when you lied..."

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape," Harry said, regretting his decision.

"It's not your fault." Severus stopped. "No, it is. One is always permitted to chose one's actions. Life, is not always easy to those with magical abilities and raised by those with no understanding of who, or what we are. And, I know that your aunt and uncle are, not inclined to try and bridge the gap, as it were. But that is no excuse for any behavior Harry." He stopped again, cursing under his breath.

"I'm not blaming you, for your fear. Or the panic attack. There are things that are not easily healed. Especially when the wound is... not permitted to close? But even still. You must know that there are those who deserve your trust, who will keep you safe?"

Harry closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the fire and the herbs from the tea spreading through his body. He remembered the feeling of the strong arms around him, holding him when he thought he was going to break into pieces. It was the first time he felt truly safe.

Hogwarts was his home, he had friends. But the way Dumbledore and some of the others treated him, there was always something. And with how Draco had been acting. Closed off, worried, hardly speaking. The twins were busy; it was difficult to maintain a secret friendship wit older students from your house's rival. And now even Pansy had gotten fed up with him.

"I thought I did," he answered quietly. "But, with all this. Everyone I know thinks that I'm the one controlling the monster. When you asked me..."

"I know Harry. But that's not an answer to my question. " He stopped, "Perhaps I should be more specific. Do you trust me? I do not know what Dumbledore has planned for you, I have tried my entire adult life to think even one or two steps ahead. But he is a master chess player. And he moves people around the same way he moves pawns.

"You are a minor, your guardians will not stand up to him. Lucius is a good man, but the Ministry is blocking his attempts to take care of you. I would not be surprised if Dumbledore was behind it. I can not do much, but I am still a teacher that this school, and you are in my House."

Something that had been weighing in the back of Harry's mind for quite some time finally clicked. "The sorting hat wanted to put me into Gryffindor!" he blurted out clapping his hand over his mouth in horror.

To his surprised, Snape laughed. The sound transforming his face as he took a deep breath, calming himself. "No, Harry. You are many things, but I assure you that you would not have been happy in Gryffindor. McGonagall might be the head of house, but make no mistake, Dumbledore oversees them as if they were his own."

"Is that why you are so hard on them, sir?"

Instead of reprimanding Harry for the inappropriate question, Severus laughed again. "Perhaps, in a way. Over my years at Hogwarts, both as a student and later as a teacher. I have been disgusted at the way the rules seem to be bent for the courageous Gryffindors.” He grinned at Harry and arched his eyebrow, “Pure of heart, and stupid of deed."

At that Harry laughed, and Severus looked over, sobering.

"Forgive me, Harry. Mr. Potter. I should not be speaking so openly."

"I don't mind, Professor."

"I do," he waved a hand. "It is nothing to do with you. But I am your teacher. You are not my confidant." He sighed the last word, "It has been ... too long, since I have had someone to speak with. The stress of these past months. I have spoken far more candidly than is appropriate. Although perhaps an insight into the machinations behind what is going on will help you in the days to come."

"If Hagrid is being arrested, won't the attacks stop?"

Snape stood, stretching his arms to the side as he uncoiled from the floor. 'For myself, although I do not think highly of the man. I do not think that Hagrid is the heir of Slytherin. Nor so do I think that he was capable of opening the Chamber of Secrets. The attacks may slow, the real culprit believing that he, or she, has bought themselves some time. But no, I do not think the school will be any safer in the morning than it is right now."

Harry nodded, standing as well. "Thank you, sir. For being honest with me even though you feel like you shouldn't have. I suppose we should go and speak with Professor Dumbledore?"

Severus took a deep breath and nodded. "I do not imagine his mood will have improved after the delay. But, I am hoping that whatever it is he wants you for, will be more pressing in discovering why it took you so long to answer his summons.” He paused, resting his arm on Harry’s shoulder and looking the younger man in the eye. “I must ask you Harry, not to lie to me again. I will do everything in my power to protect you. And I will promise never to lie to you.” He shook his head, “That does not mean I will tell you everything you ask, but I will not use you. I swear it.”

Harry swallowed and nodded, “I promise, Professor.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, a faint smile on his strained face, he moved to the door, wand aloft, and waved it over the glimmering magical wall. It shifted, coiling back into the slim piece of wood.

With the wards removed, Harry felt a chill pass through his body. It was as if they'd been squirreled away, and the events of the castle were somehow removed. Now, with the wards gone, Harry felt stripped away, exposed, as if he were somehow once again on display.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone again for the kudos and comments! It really honestly makes my day to get them <3


	17. The One With the Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say, that mono sucks? 
> 
> Headed South on vacation next week, bringing the netbook with me - hopefully the weather will help!

They made their way through a series of twists and turns in the castle, passing ono one. Even the portraits seemed for the most part to be hiding, gone to a place that he couldn't see.

Finally, Severus stopped in front of a large stone gargoyle. "Lemon Drops," he said, the disgust on his face obvious. The gargoyle spun away, revealing a curled stone stair case. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking down at Harry.

"Yes," he answered. Although as they climbed the stairs a sinking feeling in his stomach reminded him of the untruth to his statement. Although he knew it would do no good to tell the truth, not in this case. Dumbledore wasn't going away, and he was certain they'd made the Headmaster wait long enough. He couldn’t imagine feeling any readier.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Harry looked around. The walls were covered in portraits, more than anywhere else he'd seen in the castle. Previous headmasters, he assumed by the dates written underneath them. Most of the portraits were sleeping, unlike the other painted residents of the castle, although a few cracked open an eye, watching him curiously.

The office itself felt cramped, busy. A hundred objects and strange items littered nearly every available surface. It would have been interesting to be allowed to explore, if not for the pressing feeling on his chest. Dumbledore was not behind the large wooden desk, flanked by floor to ceiling stained glass windows. But beside it sat a rather strange looking bird on a perch. As they waited, the bird coughed several times, and exploded into dust, settling in a pile on a tray underneath the branch.

Harry jumped, would he be blamed for the death of Dumbledore's pet as well. Severus made a snide noise under his breath. "Don't let him put you off, Harry. Fawkes is a phoenix. A magical bird. It goes through a circle of death and rebirth. Living from the ash. Nothing to worry about."

He opened his mouth to respond, when Dumbledore appeared through a small door at the side of the office. "Ahh, Severus. Thank you for bringing Harry, I hope you did not get lost?" Something in the tone of his voice rippled over Harry's skin, pricking at him.

"As you can imagine, the students are a bit on edge." Not a lie, but certainly not the truth of the delay. Thankfully Dumbledore seemed content to let it pass.

"Mmmm," The noise he made was non-committal at best. He settled into the large chair, gesturing for Harry to sit across from him. "That will be all Severus, I will ensure Harry is returned to the Slytherin dungeons when we are finished."

Severus made no move to leave. Instead he took a position just behind Harry's chair, folding his arms.

"I will be staying. Harry's guardians could not be present, and as the Head of his House, I do believe it is my duty to remain with him."

For a long time, the two men were silent. Ice blue eyes boring into dark ones. Harry sat quietly, feeling the flow of the wordless conversation. Finally, Dumbledore sat back into his chair, rumbling in his chest.

"Very well." His tone was curt. Harry could sense a smug smile of victory from the Potions Master behind him.

"There are those amongst the staff who believe that given your gift of Parseltongue, it is as close to an admission of guilt to opening the Chamber of Secrets as we will ever get. It would," he leaned forward, resting his head on his hands, "certainly answer the question of why no one has been able to find, or open the Chamber."

Harry could feel the rage coming off of Severus in waves, but the Potions Master said nothing.

"I didn't open it."

"Perhaps, Harry. Perhaps. It remains to be seen, as curiously you have been missing each time an attack has taken place. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Harry swallowed. A part of him wanted to tell the man everything he knew. The voices, the cold feeling every time he heard it. Unload his burden on them, tell them that he was going home, and let them deal with it. But he knew that Dumbledore was not the person he wanted him to be. Despite his appearance, bright, friendly robes, twinkling eyes behind half moon glasses that watched over the students. Every inch the supposedly caring mentor and benefactor. He was not those things.

Harry knew that many considered Dumbledore to be one of the most powerful wizards to have ever lived. That You-Know-Who was afraid of him, and him alone. And yet... Snape's metaphor of Dumbledore as a chess master came back to him. And as he looked around the office, struggling for words, it seemed, fitting. The Headmaster sat in his office, moving his pawns around. That was his power. Yes, perhaps the man had magical ability. More than perhaps, but Dumbledore's true power was the power he had over those under him. Over the school he presided over with a cunning hand.

For a moment, as Dumbledore sat watching him, Harry could almost see the strings of influence all leading back to the puppeteer. He felt Snape shifting behind him, they were both waiting for him to reply. A memory of Snape telling him that he was not free to do as he wished came back to him. Severus may not have been, but he was. He straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders and took a deep breath. "No, sir."

Dumbledore blinked, "No?"

"No. There's nothing that I wish to tell you. I don't know anything, sir." He tacked on the last word hurriedly, unwilling to push his defiance too far.

Again, the two men seemed to share an almost wordless conversation. This time, when Dumbledore sat back in his chair, he was not entirely certain who had won. But Snape remained poised behind his chair, a fact that he was eternally grateful for.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, his voice nearly as cold as the one that stalked the walls. "I believe you will find, that my door is always open. Should you have a change of heart. Or... think, of anything that you wish to share."

Harry stood, ignoring how his knees shook, threatening to give way. "Yes sir. I appreciate that." He turned to leave and stopped, looking over at the Headmaster. "Sir? Are you going to close the school sir?"

"No, I believe that a solution will be found before that is necessary. Wouldn’t you agree Harry?"

The walk back to the Slytherin dungeons was quiet. The icy blue stare seemed to follow him, the Headmaster’s last question ringing in his ears. A heavy silence stretched between them as their footsteps echoed through the empty halls. When they reached the passage to the dormitories Harry hesitated.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" Severus' voice was tired, drained.

"Thank you, for staying with me… with Dumbledore... and well... for earlier." His face colored, remembering the way he'd panicked in front of the professor.

"You are welcome, for both. If you find yourself feeling anxious, or overwhelmed, in the future. Close your eyes. Find something solid to touch your hand to. And take several deep breaths. I know," he sighed sadly. "That Hogwarts does not feel as safe as it once did. But I assure you, that you are safe. And if you need anything, you will find my door open."

"Yes sir, thank you, sir." Harry hesitated another moment, and closed the distance between them. Wrapping Severus in a tight hug. Stunned, Severus stiffened for a moment, and then awkwardly wrapped his arms around him, returning the hug, before stepping away.

"Good night Harry."

Harry didn't respond, his mind racing with a million thoughts as he quickly spoke the password and entered the dorms. It wasn't a panic attack, but he closed his eyes, steadying his breathing all the same. Another student had been found petrified. Dumbledore might not think he had done it, but, Harry noted, he did not seem too keen to disabuse anyone of the notion. Carefully, feeling his heart in his throat, he pushed his way into the Slytherin common room, uncertain of his reception.

The students seemed to ignore him, although he caught more than one sidelong glance. Gemma kept a close eye on any Slytherin who walked near Harry, and he wondered if perhaps the Prefect had had a word with the others while he was meeting Dumbledore. Draco had already gone up to the dormitories and his curtains were pulled closed.

He called out softly, but the other boy didn't answer him. Sighing, he crawled into bed himself. Winter holidays could not come fast enough.

The train back to Hogsmeade was packed, hardly any students had signed up to remain in the castle over Christmas. Curiously, Fred and George, along with their siblings, were all staying behind.

Draco and Pansy had also signed up to stay. Narcissa had decided they would be spending Christmas in the South of France, at a retreat. And Pansy had quietly asked Harry if he wanted the company over the holidays.

It wasn't much, things between him and the rest of the students were still strained. But he accepted the olive branch for what it was and had smiled, telling her he would love it.

Once everyone had cleared out, the castle felt empty, hollow. Pansy, Draco, and Harry were the only Slytherins who had remained behind. The silence was almost deafening, but as they settled into a quiet routine, Harry began to find the silence peaceful. No one running out of his way, making snide comments behind his back.

As he curled into his bed on Christmas Eve, he sighed. Hogwarts was his home, Monsters and Chambers be damned. He pulled the blankets up around him, focusing on the warm feeling in the center of his chest, and fell asleep.

On Christmas morning, Pansy came bounding into their room at the crack of dawn. Dressed in Muggle clothing, instead of her robes, she launched herself at the mound of blankets she assumed was Draco, and shouted "Happy Christmas!"


	18. The One With Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recovered from mono-lite, finally. Just in time to go 1v1 with my poor little car and a bus! I'd hoped to get a lot more editing done while on vacation this week, but when I looked at what I had done while on the pain meds I was very glad I made a backup copy! Lmao!
> 
> Here's a chapter, with just some happy feels I hope, before things really go to hell :D

Surrounded by a pile of torn wrapping paper and presents, Harry smiled despite feeling somewhat odd. The Dursley's had sent him a pair of socks, used and unwashed, and a note asking if he could possibly stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays as well. But the rest more than made up for it.

"You know, for how much your aunt and uncle seem to want to get rid of you, it's really amazing that the Ministry insists you go back there." Pansy glanced over at the socks with disgust and handed back the note with a frown.

Draco nodded in agreement, sitting amongst his gifts with a pleased smile on his face as he flipped through an antique book on Transfiguration from his father. "Father thinks there's more to it. But the Ministry is being rather quiet on the details."

"I wish we could figure out what it was though."

"Me too Harry, but... let's just get through this term without the school closing, or eaten by a giant monster, and try to pass our exams first."

Harry stiffened for a moment. Life with the Dursley's was nearly as bad as life with a Monster living the castle. At least, it certainly seemed that way. But, Pansy had a point. There wasn't much he could do, not about the Ministry, or the Monster. It was Christmas, and he was determined to enjoy it.

They skipped breakfast. Pansy's mum had sent her a gift basket of treats from home, and they happily snacked on oranges and granola while they explored their presents.

Harry was just tucking away the new sweatshirt from the Malfoy's, when he spotted an envelope sticking out from the bottom of Draco's pile. "Oiy Draco, you haven't opened this one yet!" He pulled it out to show him, and noticed that it was addressed to all three of them.

Curious, he tore it open, pulling out the slip of parchment.

To the Heir of Slytherin and his stalwart companions,

If you can resist paralyzing a pair of poor blood traitors for the span of a few hours, perhaps you would join us for brunch to celebrate the Holiday? Please leave all deadly monsters in the Slytherin dungeons.

Gred and Forge

"Oh that's brilliant!" Pansy beamed. It's been too long since we've seen them. I'm assuming they mean in the kitchens?"

Harry nodded, noting a strange blush on Draco's face. "They want us there in a few minutes, according to the rest of the invitation. C'mon, let's go."

Pansy crossed to the mirror, smoothing her long black hair, and peering at her face. She giggled softly when Draco's reflection appeared beside her and the blond boy ran a comb through his pale hair. "You look adorable Draco, stop fussing."

Draco's face colored and he set the comb on the stable, squaring his shoulders. "A Malfoy always looks their best when invited for a meal, even if it's one he has to sneak into."

Pansy nodded, her eyes twinkling as she patted his cheek with a grin. "Of course my dear. You keep telling yourself that."

The halls were empty as they made their way down to the kitchens. The handful of students that had remained at the school over Christmas seemed to be all squirreled away in their dormitories. They made it to the painting of the pear without seeing a soul. Harry tickled it, and stepped through the passageway.

Standing at the entrance was a house elf, flanked by three more, carrying...

"Our cloaks? Why do you have our cloaks?"

The lead elf bowed deeply. "We have been asked to obtain them, Master Malfoy. Masters Weasley were most insistent." The elves carrying their cloaks approached, holding them up while bowing, an interesting feat. "And we's be told to tell Masters Malfoy, and Potter, and Mistress Parksinon, to meet the Masters out at the Quidditch pitch." Her voice was high and squeaky with excitement over being chosen to be a part of the plot.

Curious, the three pulled on their cloaks, and made their way out of the kitchen and through the castle. The front doors creaked loudly as they pushed them open, the blast of cold air icy on their lungs.

The grounds were covered, yet again, with a blanket of snow. Freshly fallen, and hanging heavily from the trees. Harry shivered, pulling tighter on his cloak, and following the others.

The field was white, except for a dark spec in the center. As they approached Harry realized it was the twins, sat on a massive blanket. Their cloaks piled in one corner, with a large blue-green flame in the center. As the trio approached, Fred and George stood, throwing handfuls of confetti.

"Harry Christmas to the Heir of Slytherin and his cohorts!"

Harry glared at him, brushing the bits of paper out of his hair. Pansy laughed, throwing aside her cloak and walking up to the fire, "This... is a ... I don't know what."

George walked over and started explaining the strange flame that seemed to burn out of no where, just above the blanket, throwing off a considerable amount of heat. Enough in fact, that Harry and Draco's cloaks joined the pile, and the settled onto the blanket in just their regular clothes, despite the winter wonderland around them.

"Aren't you worried someone will see?" Harry asked, accepting a mug of Butterbeer, cradling the warmed stone flagon to his chest.

"There's hardly anyone here to see. and it's not like having a meal with someone from another house is a crime."

"You sure about that George?" Pansy sipped from her mug, still studying the flame.

"It's not, we looked."

"Despite what people think," Fred said with a grin, "We're actually well versed in all of the Hogwarts rules. "

"Of course," Draco grinned, "If you're going to break rules, you have to be familiar with them."

"I always knew you were smarter than you looked," Geprge retorted with a smirk.

Draco colored, hiding his expression behind his mug. When Fred leaned over and said something quietly, Draco's blush crept up to his ears and he sputtered for a moment.

Pansy laughed, turning her attention to George again. "This is wonderful, much nicer than eating in the kitchens."

As Harry leaned back sometime later, his stomach full, listening to the laugher of his friends, he agreed. It was a shame, with everything, that the houses were not permitted to mingle more freely. Not because of school rules, but because of ridiculous prejudices. A half formed idea floated around in his mind, wrapped in the fuzziness of a good meal and great company. And he grinned to himself.

"I think our dear Heir has come up with some dastardly plot," Fred said, looking over at Harry with a smirk.

"More mayhem and chaos for after the hols?" George looked rather pleased at the idea.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing like that, well... I guess..."

"Tell us already!" Pansy leaned over and punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" He rubbed the spot, glaring at her. "What I -was- going to say, is that I thought it was great that we were all friends. Now I'm not so sure."

"Awww, is Harry having warm fuzzy feelings?"

"I'm not sure if I should be pleased, or sick" Fed laughed.

"Oh shut up," Harry said, glaring at them.

"I was just thinking, that it's a shame the different Houses can't be friends."

"They can," Draco said, his features pulled into a sad frown. "The other houses are all pretty friendly with each other. It's just..."

"You dirty snakes," Fred said, wrapping his arm around Draco's shoulder and patting him on the head. "So vicious and cunning."

Draco shoved him off, not looking entirely displeased.

"He's not wrong," Pansy sghed.

"No moping!" George said, picking up his mostly empty mug of Butterbeer. "It is Christmas, and we are celebrating with friends. "

"Here here!" Harry agreed, raising his mug as well.

The others lifted their mugs as well, smiling at each other.

"To friends," Harry said, the words echoed around the circle before everyone clinked their mugs together, and drained the last of the sweet warm liquid.

When they stood, pulling on their cloaks, Fred waved his wand at the flame vanished. Another wave, and two house elves apparated beside him, beginning to tidy up. The group made its way back to the castle, talking quietly.

As they pushed open the large doors, knocking off their shoes onto the mats, they heard a snide voice floating down the hall. Harry glanced up just in time to see a red face, with matching flaming red hair glaring at them in disgust.


	19. The One With Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vacations are always so good for editing! Getting close to the end of this book! My goal is to have everything wrapped up by next weekend.
> 
> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos, they really help keep me going! <3

"Fred! George! What do you think you're doing?" Ron's face was screwed up in anger as he clenched his fists at his side. "This is why you wanted to say over the holidays? To consort with... them?" He spat out the last word with a derogatory glance over the Slytherins.

Harry stiffened, pulling his wand out of his sleeve, ready for a fight. Ron walked up to him until they were nearly nose to nose.

"I don't know what kind of magic you have over my brothers, but you let them go NOW!"

The girl next to him, Granger, had her wand out and was pointing it at Fred and George, muttering under her breath. Rolling their eyes in unison, the twins looked at each other.

George moved and picked up Ron around the waist, ignoring his sputtering and screeching, hauling him several feet back and keeping his arms pinned behind his back. Meanwhile Fred walked up to Granger and plucked the wand from her hand.

"It's not going to work love, there's no spell here." He wagged his eyebrows at her and grinned.

"N-n-but he's the... " her eyes narrows and she sank back a little, her bushy hair crackling. "the you-know-what!" She whispered loudly.

"I think you've got that confused. He's the one that -beat- You-Know-Who. He's not a You-Know-What!"

"Maybe he didn't beat him!" Ron burst out, having stopped struggling against his brother and seeming content with shouting instead. "No one knows what happened. Maybe he's worse!"

"Is that what you think?" Harry blinked, his wand dropping a fraction as he looked over at the boy, stunned.

"It's what I know," Ron said, fuming. "And I'm going to prove it!"

"That's nice dear," George patted Ron on the head.

"This is ridiclous, I'm not the Heir of Slytherin!" Harry sighed, the warm feelings from earlier gone. "Fred, George, thank you for this morning. It was thoughtful, and kind."

"Must not be a family trait," Draco muttered. Pansy snicked in agreement, twirling her wand and keeping her gaze on the Gryffindors.

"Sadly not," George replied, ignoring Ron's sputters. "And you're welcome Harry. Happy christmas."

"Happy Christmas," Fred echoed, still holding Granger's wand out of her reach. "We'll keep these two here, and see you lot at dinner."

"Thanks," the three chimed. Leaving the Gryffindors in the hall as they made their way through the castle towards the Dungeons.

"Do you think they'll get in trouble?" Draco said, looking over his shoulder.

"Who?"

"Fred and George."

"No, I don't." Pansy glanced over her shoulder and Harry nodded in agreement.

"I'd be more than a little surprised if Fred and George didn't have a mountain of dirt on their little brother to ensure his silence. They're Slytherins at heart, remember?"

At dinner that night, instead of one several tables for the smattering of students from each house, the Hall was set up with a single large table. Dumbledore sat at the head, having swapped out his regular hat for a paper crown, and was sipping from his goblet while talking with a rather frightening looking Lockhart.

Lockhart's hair had been curled and styled so that even as the man spoke rather animatedly, his hair did not move. His robes were a hideous mashup of red, green, and gold.

Thankfully, the table was long enough that the three Slytherins could slip into seats far from the garishly dressed man, and talk quietly amongst themselves instead. Harry waited nervously for the Weasleys to arrive. Hoping that Fred and George had managed to smooth things over, at least some what.

As the first course was served, the twins walked in, grinning widely, and took their seats. Percy, and the younger one, a frail girl wth matching red hair sat closer to the teachers, the girl looked over at them nervously and jumped as Harry smiled. The twins took seats on either side of their siblings and gave Harry, Draco, and Pansy large grins before digging into the food with relish.

After dinner, they retreated back to the Common Room, Harry and Draco played a quiet game of chess near the fire, while Pansy lounged on the couch, painting her nails bright silver.

It was a shock, after the quiet of the holidays, when everyone returned. The castle was loud and full of life. As the months went on, and no other students were attacked, fear of the monster seemed to abate. Lockhart could be heard bragging at any available opportunity, that it was a good thing too, as he'd been just about to capture the Heir, bringing him to brutal justice. But, as he seemed to have ceased the attacks, Lockhart was gregariously letting him go on with his life. Scared to the straight and narrow by fear of Lockart's punishment.

Life in the castle slowly returned to normal, their classes were busy, with homework and Quidditch practices leaving them little time for much else. The weeks slid into each other in the comfortable routine that was life at Hogwarts until one quiet morning in February.

It looked as though pink and red glitter had exploded all over the Great Hall. Garlands of lacy hearts decorated the large stone room, and the tables were covered in bright pink cloth. Lockhart stood up at the teacher's table, in robes that matched the tablecloths, and a rose tucked behind his hear.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" he beamed, flashing a toothy smile. "It came to my attention, that the school did not traditionally celebrate this most wonderful day. However I am happy to remedy that miscalculation with a few little treats for you all. First, I must say, a thank you for the fourty-six cards I have already received. You are all very special to me, and I am happy to be your Valentine." He laughed, sounding more like a donkey than a human.

"My little cupids," he waved his hand to a small army of tiny creatures with fluttering wings, "Will be delivering Valentines all day today. Simply hand them a letter, or a poem, or a song!" he swooned at the thought. "And they shall deliver it to your heart's desire. While you're at it... why not ask Professor Flitwick to show you an entrancing charm or two?"

The small professor beamed, ducking his head. "Rumor has it you've quite the gift my good man." Flitwick turned bright red behind his hands and ducked behind the water goblet.

"Or perhaps," he strode to the other end of the table, putting a hand on Snape's shoulder, snatching it back when the Potion's Master glared at him.

"Or... why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to brew up a love potion?"

Harry snickered. The look on the Potion Master's face left little doubt as to the fate of anyone that asked to deviate from today's lesson and brew up a love potion instead.

"Right then," he coughed as Snape continued to glare at him. "Enjoy your day!" He beamed at the army of small cupids, and strode from the Hall.

"This is ridiculous," Harry said, picking at the scrambled eggs which had been dyed a disgusting color of pink.

"I don't know," Pansy shrugged. "I know it's kind of a Muggle holiday, or something. But it can be fun don't you think? Sending love notes to secret crushes, finally telling someone how you feel. Right Draco?"

Draco narrowed his silver eyes at her, a piece of bacon half-way to his mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just saying," she smiled. "If there was anyone. A lucky girl, or boy, that you fancied. Maybe today would be a fun way to tell them. If I had a crush, I'd send them a note. It's fun."

Harry looked at her. Then glanced around the table, most of the other Slytherins were busy either gagging at the pink food, or giggling in small groups. "Girl... or boy?" he whispered, his face coloring.

"People are attracted to who they're attracted to Harry. I'm sure people have preferences, but... in the wizarding world at least. You like who you like." She smiled at him, and went back to her breakfast, leaving him with his thoughts.

Unbidden, Harry's mind went back to the duelling tournament. Snape's outfit had been so different from his regular clothes. He'd not imagined that under the robes the man's body was so... shapely. And the way he'd pulled his long black hair into a low tail. Although, Harry felt his stomach twist, it looked nice free as well. Smooth, and soft. He coughed, shifting in his seat.

"Exactly," Pansy said, look up and obviously pleased with herself. "You should send them a letter! Tell them you think you're fine." Lifting her wand, she waved for the cupid circling their table to come closer.

"It's anonymous, right?" Draco whispered.

"Yes sir," the small fairy squeaked. "Just a little note to brighten someone's day. If you don't tell them, we won't!" She fluttered over their food, trailing glitter behind her.

"Do you have paper?"

"Oh yes!" she reached a tiny hand into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a small pink square. When she handed it to Pansy, the paper shimmered, and transformed into a larger piece. Pansy shook her head, "I'm not sending a letter, these two are." She took another piece from the fairy, "Thank you, we'll call you over when we're done."

Pansy held out her arms, a piece of paper in each. "Write! I promise not to look, but you should do it. Cheer someone up, just as long as you're not writing to Lockhart."

Harry choked and she looked at him, alarmed. "You're not..."

"No," he gasped. "That's... disgusting."

Looking satisfied, she turned her attention back to her food. Harry and Draco exchanged sheepish glances. "You going to do it?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. His hand running over the paper. "Might, can't hurt... right?"

Harry glanced up at the head table. His face blushing brightly and quickly returning it to the paper. "S'pose not. Might make someone feel good?"

"I will if you will."

They nodded at each other and pulled out quills and an ink well. Carefully keeping their writing hidden, each wrote a quick note and folded it. Harry swallowed nervously as he summoned the fairy over. "D-do we have to write the name on the outside?"

She shook her purple haired head. "No sir! If you've written the name inside, we'll know." Tapping her small finger to the side of her nose she grinned at him. "Best of luck to you and your Valentine's!" she squeaked.

Pansy smiled proudly at them both as they headed to the library to work on homework. Harry was grateful neither of them pried into asking who he'd sent the letter to. It was not something he wanted to explain, even if he could have.

Several hours later both Draco and Pansy had a large stack of Valentine's. A few open boxes of chocolates were scattered between the books as they finished up their Charms essay. Harry's pile was modest. Oh, he had received more than the other two put together. But a good number of the students had taken advantage of the opportunity to send anonymous letters and said some truly nasty things. After the first few Harry had threatened the cupids in Parsletongue to stop delivering them. They'd still tried for about another hour until sparks flew from the tip of Harry's wand and the pale, shivering fairy had fled.

Any sympathy he had for them vanished as they dug into lunch only to glance up and see that they had chosen that exact moment to deliver his letter. Dark eyes glared suspiciously at the small cupid and it flitted over to the table. The entire hall hushed as he stared at the purple sheet. Harry stilled as the dark eyes swept over the room and beside him Pansy let out a soft, "Oh, Harry."

"It's nothing," he hissed back. Willing himself to remain seated when his body was screaming to run from the hall. After several long moments, Snape folded the letter and tucked it inside of his robes. He resumed eating his lunch and the Great Hall returned to normal. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could have sworn that the man seemed pleased. An almost invisible softening of his pale face. Pansy sighed again and returned to her food.


	20. The One With the Quidditch Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooOOoo We're getting close to the end! Odds are good I'll be done book 2 by the end of the week. Hurray for vacations!
> 
> And I just booked a week at my favorite writer's getaway/camping spot for the summer. With luck I'll be on book 4 by then!

The last attack had been months ago, and no sign of a monster, or any messages had been found. Spring was slowly unfurling across the ground, and finally Harry let himself relax. Whatever it was, it was done. And he hadn't had to do anything. Whatever Dumbledore had hoped for, it didn't matter. He smiled as he bent over his parchment, trying to finish it so that he could focus on the Quidditch match tomorrow.

It was against Hufflepuff, by all accounts an easy one. But Harry never liked to take it for granted. Even Hufflepuff had good players, and anything could happen. Especially if he was up late working on homework and too sleepy to catch the Snitch.

The Common Room was filled with the soft scratching of quills against paper. It would seem every one had the same idea, finish their homework before the weekend began. Some of the older students were making plans for Hogsmeade trips, and Harry couldn't wait until they were able to join them for trips into the small wizarding town near the school.

Finishing his essay, he rolled it up with a yawn. Draco and Pansy had finished earlier and gone to sleep. Pansy had practically ordered Draco after seeing his gaunt face. The Malfoy heir had been struggling with some sort of bug, but even after being forced to visit Madam Pomfrey, nothing had come of it.

"Stress," she'd tsked, patting him on the shoulder affectionately. "You're not the first student I've seen. It's been a difficult year. Mmm?" She smiled warmly at him as she dismissed him from the Hospital wing. "Sleep, food, and make sure you drink enough. It'll be alright, you'll see."

Despite her reassurances Draco still seemed drawn, and pale. Although he refused to discuss it, insisting he was fine. Harry sighed, school would be over in another month. Hopefully the break from the castle, and a trip home, would fix him up. He pushed aside thoughts of home. He'd still not heard from Lucius about how it was going with the Ministry, and had begun to resign himself to yet another summer with the Durselys. But, he said to himself as he curled up into bed, at least the school wasn't closing, and would be here next September, just as he'd left it.

The sky was bright blue and clear the next morning as he and Draco made their way to the Quidditch pitch. Draco had dark circles under his eyes, but insisted that he was fine to play. His voice sounded strong, so Gemma had agreed, begrudgingly. Although Harry wished he could think of a way to send his friend back to bed.

Harry froze at the sight of Severus Snape, arms crossed, at the entrance to the locker room. The tightness around his eyes and mouth sent a stab of cold fear through him. "The Quidditch match has been canceled."

"What!" Draco groused. That's not fair."

"Be that as it may, Mr Malfoy. The Headmaster has declared today's match canceled in light of, recent events."

Harry felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. As the others muttered around him, milling about, he watched Severus. The older man's gaze never left him or Draco. And when the team realized there was no point in arguing with him and left, the older man reached out and grasped their shoulders. A strange expression stretched across his gaunt features.

"You two, should," Harry felt long bony fingers squeezing his shoulder tightly, "Come with me."

Harry whipped his head up, "Professor, you can't think it was me. I'm not the heir, you know that!"

"I know," Severus' voice was quiet, and sad. "But you and Mr. Malfoy need to come with me please. Quietly."

He led them towards the Hospital Wing, and with each step Harry felt the knot in the pit of his stomach grow bigger, and heavier. Leading them past the group of teachers, he pushed aside a curtain to reveal Pansy lying on one of the hospital beds.

She was stiff, her face the color of ash, and all spark of life gone. Her hand stretched out in front of her, holding her dressing mirror.

"She was found this morning, in the library." With those words, Severus squeezed both of their shoulders and stepped back, giving them room.

Harry's eyes stung with tears, he blinked them back, feeling the hot salty water slide down his face as he looked at his friend. He swallowed thickly, feeling the bile rising in the back of his throat.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, took one look at Pansy, and fled the Hospital Wing with a sob. Harry let him go, as did the teachers. He sat on the side of the bed, running a shaky hand over Pansy's hair.

"What were you doing," he asked quietly. "Why were you in the library.? You finished all of your work."

He sat with her the rest of the afternoon. Madam Pomfrey tried just once to have him leave, give her some room to work. But Harry's tearstained face changed her mind. She patted him on the head warmly and promised to have the House Elves deliver him some supper.

"Don't you worry, the Mandrakes will be ready soon and we'll have her unpetrified in no time."

"And then what," Harry murmured after she took her leave. "Will they be able to tell us who did this to them? Did you see them Pansy? Do you know who did this to you?" He sat with her as the sun went down, long shadows stretching across the room, illuminating the beds with the Petrified people in a strange orange glow. Just before the sun set, it glint off the mirror Pansy had been carrying. Someone set it on the side table.

Harry picked it up, peering at his own reflection. He turned it over and over in his hands, trying to figure it out. "Why a mirror?"

Severus stood in the door of the room, watching Harry talk quietly with his friend. Other students had come to visit those who'd been petrified. But there was something about the way Harry sat there, alone. Where was Draco? The thought took root in his mind as he watched, but as no answer was immediately apparent, and it did not seem particular important, he filed it away to consider further at another time.

"Harry," he spoke softly as he approached, not wanting to startle the boy. "It was curfew five minutes ago. Time to return to the Common Room."

"I don't want to leave her alone," Harry's voice was small, too child-like for the almost teenager that sat with the mirror in his lap.

"She's not alone. But you will not help her by putting yourself in danger. Rules, are rules."

"Damn the rules!" Harry shouted, turning to look at the Potions Master, his green eyes flashing with anger. "There's a Monster in the castle, some secret Chamber where this guy that everyone thinks I'm related to kept his Monster . And now it's attacking people, my friends, flooding bathrooms, and Dumbledore doesn't..." Harry stopped.

"Harry?"

"Flooding bathrooms," Harry tightened his grip on the mirror.

"What of it?"

"Sir," Harry's voice was far calmer. He took a deep breath. "You said, the last time the Monster was loose in the castle, that someone died."

Snape's dark eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't follow you, Harry."

"Someone died, a girl right? What if..."

Snape's eyes opened wide. "What if she never left?"

"Exactly, I know where the Chamber is!" Harry grinned and started to take off out of the Hospital Wing.

"Harry! Stop!" Snape's voice was sharp as he snaked out a hand to grab Harry's robes.

"Let me go! I ..." Harry whirled around, striking the man's firm chest in an effort to free himself.

Snape's hand held firm. "You are not going off into the Chamber to fight a Monster you know nothing about. Even if you knew everything about it. Harry stop fighting me." His other arm moved to crush the boy against him, pining his arms to the side.

He struggled against the iron clad grip for several more moments before he finally slumped and stopped fighting. Severus released him and he stepped back.

"I will speak with Myrtle. See if there's anything that I can find out. You, will go back to your dormitory at once. And you will remain there, do you understand?"

Harry glared at him.

"Promise me, Harry. You said you trusted me. This... is trust." Snape's voice was even, calm, but firm. Finally, Harry nodded.

"I promise Professor."

Snape nodded and released Harry's robes. Harry turned, pressed a soft kiss to Pansy's forehead, and then faced Snape with a stony expression. They walked in silence back towards the Slytherin dungeons.

As they approached the dungeons voices carried up the quiet halls to them. Soft, nervous, echoing and distorting the words. Severus quickened his pace, gripping his wand tightly in his hand, holding it in front of them. Harry pulled his wand out as well, ignoring the way his hand trembled.

The teachers had gathered in front of another message, sprawled on the wall in shimmering red letters.

HIS SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER

"Who is it?" Harry yelled, dropping his wand as a cold knot settled in his stomach. "Who did it take?"

Severus grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to steady him. "Not now Harry, we need to get you back to the dormitory."

"Ahh, Severus, Harry," Dumbledore turned from studying the writing to eye them over his half-moon glasses with an unreadable expression. He nodded to himself, stroking his long grey beard. "It is Master Malfoy then," his voice was neutral, as if he was reciting the Quidditch statistics for the Chudley Cannons. "Harry and Draco were the only two students missing, and well... as you see," he gestured to Harry. With a rustle of robes, he took several steps closer and leaned down to look Harry straight in the face. "Once, I asked you, if there was anything you wished to tell me. I ask you again, is there anything?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer when Lockhart walked up, his hair in curlers. "Ahh, sorry I was late. Getting my beauty sleep, not that I need it eh?" he stopped, smiling awkwardly at the looks from the other teachers. "What's this then?"

"A student has been taken," Professor Flitwick sniffed.

"This is your chance Gilderoy," Professor McGonnagall turned to him. Her pinched features were pulled tight, matching her tone. "Weren't you just saying last night it was lucky the attacks had stopped as you've known where the Chamber was this entire time?"

"Ah yes well," Lockhart pulled at one of the curlers in his hair, wincing as it knotted, hanging from the tangled strand over his ear. "What I mean to say is..."

"Wonderful," Severus chimed in. "Aren't we lucky that you were our Defense teacher this term?" His voice smooth as silk as he began to pull Harry away from the teachers. "I am going to see to my House, as I am sure the other teachers are anxious to do."

"Just a moment Severus, I believe I..." Dumbledore said.

"Surely nothing a second year student can say or do is above what your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is capable of, Albus." He did not wait for an answer, but steered Harry down the hall. Before they turned the corner Harry could have sworn he heard McGonagall sniff in approval.

"Professor?" Harry looked up at him as they stopped outside the passage to the dormitories, his voice wavering.

The tall man took him by both of his shoulders, fingers digging into the skin enough to leave bruises. His dark eyes fixed on Harry's, gaunt face pinched with stress. "Listen to me Harry. You have done everything you could, you figured where the Chamber is. Now, what you can do, is go the dorms. I'm not foolish enough to think you will sleep. But, what you can do is wait."

"But..."

"No. Harry, I have to go. Stay in the Common Room." Snape turned in a whirl of robes and strode down the hall.

Harry watched him leave, fuming. There was more, he was sure. And there was no way Lockhart was going to fix it. The mood in the Common Room was anxious and tense. Conversation stopped as Harry emerged from the passageway.

Stalking into the room, Harry tried to ignore the way conversation slowly resumed, people murmuring quietly in corners. He shuffled through, keeping his head down, until he ran into someone who wrapped their arms around him, hugging tightly.

"We heard about Draco," Blaise side, sniffing as he backed up. "Snape came in looking to see who was missing, and no one knew where you were."

"The Heir took him," Harry said blankly. "His body will lie in the Chamber forever," that's what the message said."

Gemma came up beside him and hugged him tightly. "Snape will get him Harry, you know he will."

Harry nodded mutely, patting her hand before stepping away. "Look, if you guys don't mind."

"Of course you want to be alone," Gemma said softly, giving him a sympathetic look. "If you need anything, we're here. Okay?"

He nodded again, saying nothing as he made his way through the Common Room. A few students stepped into his path, squeezing his shoulder or giving him quick hugs before moving out of the way. He smiled gratefully at them. Whatever the other Houses might say about Slytherin, they looked out for their own.

Their dorm was empty. Blaise hadn't followed him, and apparently Nott was in the Coommon Room with everyone else. Harry sat on Draco's bed, carefully moving aside the stacks of book and stretching out on the cover. He felt his throat close, the hot burn of tears behind his eyes but nothing would come.

He flashed back to when he'd first met Draco, the self-assured, even arrogant way he held himself. All formality and politeness. He'd never imaged they'd become best friends. And now, his body was... buried, beneath the Castle. Even if Snape managed to find the entrance to the Chamber. After wizards and witches had been searching for years...

He curled up tightly, pulling his knees to his chest and struggling to breathe. Glasses askew, he let his eyes wander, and they came to rest on a passage of an ancient text.

The Basilisk: "Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken’s egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."

Bolting upright he yanked the book onto his lap, staring at the picture. The Basilisk was just a giant snake. That's why he could hear it! Of course. Clutching the book to his chest he ran towards the door and then stopped.

There was no way they were going to let him out of the dungeons. Not even if he insisted he had to help Snape. And if he waited until everyone was asleep? A cold shudder went through him. Then, it came to him. The invisibility cloak!

Throwing his trunk open he rummaged through the clothes until he came to a soft bundle tucked into the bottom. He unfurled the cloak, throwing it over his head, and slowly made his way back to the Common Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really appreciate all the comments and kudos <3


	21. The One With the Entrance to the Chamber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry! Took some pain meds and things are getting a little floaty, but wanted to post something. Hopefully it makes sense!

The mood was worse than Harry had ever witnessed. Small groups of students talked with their heads bent close together. And a few seemed to be trying to work on homework, or play games. But for the most part they sat quiet. He tiptoed through the room, grateful for thick rugs to muffle the sound of his feet.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he slipped through the door and back into the halls. Snape had to have gone to Myrtles' bathroom. That's where he'd find the man and tell him what he'd discovered. With each footstep echoing through the quiet halls, Harry breathed a wish that he would not be too late.

He held his breath as the sharp clack of high heels rang down the hall. Pressing his back against the wall he froze as Narcissa Malfoy swept into his gaze. Her blond hair shone brightly in the dimly lit corridor. She was flanked by several people Harry did not recognize at first. A rotund man, dressed in a Muggle suit with a bowler hat perched on his head caught his eye. Cornelius Fudge! Harry realized with a start. 

What was Mrs Malfoy doing at Hogwarts with the Minister of Magic? It was not unrelated, he was sure of it. As he watched them disappear down the hall he felt a strong desire to pursue them, figure out just what she was up to.

Maybe she was here about her son. It seemed obvious, but if that were the case, where was Lucius? The tall blond man had been nowhere in her retinue. And Harry knew there was nothing short of imprisonment that could have kept Draco's father from coming to his rescue. And the look on her face... triumph. Not concern, or worry, not even fear. He took a few steps after them before pulling up short.

Whatever Narcissa was up to, it wasn't rescuing her son. Even if it was related, it wasn't the most important. He'd wasted far too much time already. Huddled under the Invisibility Cloak he sprinted as fast as he could towards the lavatory.

When Harry reached the bathroom he looked around, it was empty. No sign of any secret passageways, or marks in the fine layer of dust covering nearly every surface. In one corner sat a small cauldron and several vials, but they looked as though they'd not been touched in some time. Had Snape not come here? Harry paused, worrying his bottom lip.

Perhaps he should go get help. Find Professor Snape, or maybe sneak into the Gryffindor tower and fetch the twins. He scoffed even before the thought had fully formed.

"Hallo Harry," came the simpering voice of the female ghost. He started, his stomach leaping into his throat.

"I don't have time Myrtle," he managed, taking a breath to slow his racing heart. "Did Professor Snape come here?"

"Why should I tell you?" she snapped, her empty eyes flashing dangerously.

"Because if you don't, someone else might die." The girl hovered near the toilets, seeming bored. What was it to a ghost if someone else died? He tried a different tactic. "Look... can I ask you something?"

She paused, looking at him curiously. "You mean ask me something else. You get one question, and only because I think you're pretty."

He swallowed a gag at the idea of a ghost finding him attractive, and considered. "How did you die?"

"OoooOooo... if I'd known you were going to ask something interesting!" She floated up towards the ceiling and then dove down, diving through his chest. Harry gasped at the cold sensation, reeling and stumbling against the wall. He held himself upright, coughing.

"I died, in this very bathroom. Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I'd come in here to pull myself together. And then I heard it. A boy's voice, all strange and hissing. I opened the door, to tell him that boys aren't allowed in the girls' bathroom, and then... I saw it."

"Saw what Myrtle?"

"A great. Big. Yellow. Eye." She punctuated each word with a icy tap against his chest. "Over there, by the sinks. And then I just... floated away."

She kept talking, but Harry had stopped paying attention. He whirled over to inspect the sinks she'd pointed to. They were rusty with age and disuse. A few dripped slowly into the porcelin, leaving dark trails. As he circled them, he noticed that one had an etching of a snake along the tap. And silver snakes circled the base.

He looked all around, poking at the snakes with his wand, casting Alohamora and every version of an unlocking spell he could think of. Nothing worked. He cursed, staring angrily at the snake.

"Bloody hell, would you just open up!?" he hissed at the snake. Meaning to yell, the words slid over his tongue.

To his amazement, the sink began to shudder and move. It sank into the floor, spiraling away, and revealing a dark set of stairs. The Chamber of Secrets.

Harry sucked in a breath. He couldn't see beyond a few feet into the dark passage. He glanced back at the door. He should get help, a teacher, someone. He didn't think that Snape would have been able to open the door. As far as he knew, the teacher wasn't a Parseltongue. Nor did it seem logical that he would have closed the door behind him either. Unless it automatically shut?

Would it lock him in there too? He paled, trembling on the top step. As he closed his eyes he saw the message, written in red, shimmering in the torchlight on the wall. His skeleton. -Draco's- skeleton. Who knows how long he'd been down there already, how long before someone had noticed the message. He squared his shoulders, flicking his wand and whispering "Lumos" . A small ball of light formed on the tip of his wand, casting long shadows down the stairs into the Chamber and sparkling off the small rivers of water seeping down the walls. He took a deep breath, and started to make his way down the stone steps.

As quiet as he could managed, he descended into the passage, waiting for the sound of the entrance scraping shut behind him. It never came. Instead, as he went deeper, the silence pressed in on him from every side. Each time he glanced back, the square of light that was the exit grew smaller and smaller, until it was nearly gone. As he stood at the bottom step, peering back, he considered for a moment how foolish it was to be here alone.

"There's no time," he muttered to himself.

One foot in front of the other, he willed himself to walk down the damp passage. Water dripped from the ceiling, running down the stone and pooling on the floor. It was cold, and he shivered. Finally, the passage opened up to a long, dimly lit room.

All through the room were towering pillars, carved with serpents, spiraling up until they disappeared into shadow. They sliced the room with streaks of blackness through the bizarre green glow. Harry realized with a start that the Chamber must be hidden beneath the Black Lake, like the Slytherin Common Room. On the distant side of the Chamber was a statue that dominated the room. Cold stone carved into the likeness of the fourth founder of Hogwarts, Salazaar Slytherin himself. 

Gripping his wand tightly, advanced into the cold, damp chamber. It was quiet, the sound of water muffling his steps. As he approached the pool at the mouth of the statue he saw a figure in dark robes, crumpled in a heap. "Draco!" he shouted, running over to his friend and dropping to his knees beside him.


	22. The One With The Fight - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter... but I just love where it ends.
> 
> :D

The blond boy was ice cold, his skin clammy, and did not move when Harry shook him, calling his name. Leaning down he frantically tried to see if his friend was breathing. After a long, heavy moment, he felt Draco's chest rise and fall. Shallow, but still alive.

"It won't work," a smooth voice interrupted Harry's frantic attempts to wake Draco. "He's too far gone to wake up."

Harry turned to see a pale boy, with dark black hair, dressed in a Hogwarts uniform walking towards them. "We can't just leave him, we have to do something!" He bent back over Draco, shaking him roughly.

The boy stepped closer, kneeling beside Harry and looking down at Draco with a sad expression. "We've done what we came to do." He snatched Harry's wand out of his hand and backed away, pointing it at him.

"I don't understand, what's going on. Give me back my wand it's not funny."

The other boy laughed, a cruel, twisted sound. "As a matter of fact it is. You see, Draco here told me all about you. His best friend that supposedly saved the world. He's not jealous, oh no. He's excited to be your friend. Friends with the Boy Who Lived. A baby, that managed to stop the greatest wizard of all time."

"Voldemort was not the greatest wizard of all time. He was a murder, and whatever happened to him, I bet he deserved it."

He laughed again, shaking his head. "You are mistaken. The Dark Lord was a visionary, a man with passion and drive. Not afraid to do what needed to be done, when everyone else was too busy or scared."

Harry narrowed his eyes. The boy seemed only a few years older than himself, the same year as Fred or George. "How could you possibly know that about Voldemort? What house are you in? Who are you?"

"I know all there is to know about the Dark Lord, Harry. My name, is Tom, Marvolo, Riddle." As he spoke he flicked Harry's wand in front of him, letters appeared in mid air, burning brightly, spelling out the name. With a cruel twist of his handsome face, and a final flick of the wand, the letters rearranged themselves to spell: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You... can't be..." Harry scrambled away, trying to drag Draco's body with him. "How is that possible?"

"But I am. You see, I AM the greatest wizard of all time. I knew, that someday, something might happen to me. And so I preserved myself into a book. Just a simple diary. Draco here, has had a difficult year . So many feelings, and emotions," he spit the words out as if they were distasteful. "Poured them out, night after night into the diary, and I drank. Ohhhh did I drink, gorging myself on the ramblings of an idiotic teenage boy. And I grew stronger, even now, as he struggles for his final breaths, I am strong!" He threw his head back, laughing.

"You're not going to get away with this!" Harry stood, his fists balled at his side, shaking, ready to throw himself at the other boy.

"But I already have. How perfect it is, what a triumphant return. They all thought they were rid of me," he spat, " Now, they will have no choice, but to bow to me." His eyes glittered, "But first, we need a body..." Turning to the large carving of Salazaar, he hissed, "Come to me. I have a present for you."

The stone groaned as the mouth opened, revealing a dark chasm. Harry felt his heart sink, as the largest snake he had ever seen slithered out of the mouth and made its way towards them. Remembering at the last moment what it was, Harry quickly turned his face away, scanning the chamber for places to run.

~Kill him~ Voldemort ordered, point his wand at Harry. The snake opened his mouth, fangs dripping, and it lunched for Harry.

Only his Seeker reflexes saved him as he dove out of the way. Scrambling to his feet, Harry yelled, "Stop."

"It won't listen to you," Tom laughed. "I am its Master. Just as it as has always been." He watched as the snake lunged for Harry again. Harry kept his eyes closed, barely avoiding the large fangs.

Listening intently as the snake attacked, he felt it brush past him, and ran, hands in front of him, stumbling. His foot caught in a loose stone, and he fell forward, scraping his hands against the stone floor. Hands bleeding he scrambled, trying to move out of the way, find something to hide behind.

As he crouched in a small alcove, he heard a bird's cry. Risking a look, he saw Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, burst into the Chamber, carrying a crumbled brown bundle. The ragged fabric dropped at his feet before Fawkes whirled and began to attack the Basilisk. First one eye, and then the other, the massive bird blinded the creature.

Tom let loose a stream of curses as Fawkes flew to safety. "Even blind, it will still hunt you down!" he cried.

Harry picked up the bundle and shook it out. The Sorting Hat? He clutched the worn fabric, crushing it in his hands. What in Merlin's name was he supposed to do with an old hat? Even a sentient one. As he twisted it frantically he could hear the Basilisk hissing wildly, still thrashing and trying to find Fawkes. Suddenly, he felt something solid underneath the layers of cloth. He shook the Sorting Hat and a large silver sword fell to the ground.

The sound distracted the monster and it began to slither towards Harry. He picked up the sword, wrapping two hands around the handle in order to lift it. Swinging it wildly as the Basilisk lunged, the sword glancing uselessly off its scales.

"You're going to have to do better than that!" Tom mocked.

Readjusting his grip on the sword, Harry squared his feet and held it in front of him. The alcove prevented the Basilisk from attacking him fully, but the fangs were still a threat. With each lunge, more of the ancient stone crumbled away. As a huge chunk fell it glanced his back, knocking him to the floor and sending the sword flying.

"Finish him!" Tom screeched. Harry could hear the desperation and eagerness in his voice.

As Harry scrambled to reach the sword the Basilisk lunged. His scream echoed through the Chamber as one large fang pierced his hand. Instantly, the room began to spin. Distantly, he heard a voice, and the expected attack never came.

Instead, Tom Riddle came into focus, the rest of the Chamber hazy and distant. "Basilisk venom, it works quickly does it not?" Twirling Harry's wand in his pale fingers, he stalked around him, gloating. "It is not nearly as well known, so few survive its gaze. But it is no less deadly." He crouched down, pushing Harry onto his back and looming over him. "Shall I let my pet finish you? Or... let the poison run its course. Either way, you will be dead in moments. You decide."

Gasping for air, Harry stared up at Tom, wondering if it was possible for someone to survive two lethal attacks in a single lifetime. Would whatever magic had saved him as a baby work now? The edges of his field of vision grew darker, and his world centered on the burning sensation in his hand. It was strange, he thought idly, that while his hand was burning, his body felt ice cold.

"Expelliarmus!" A smooth, silky voice cut through the fog that had surrounded Harry's mind. How odd, he thought, that as he died he should dream of dueling Professor Snape.


	23. The One with the Aftermath - Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! Hurray!
> 
> Been busy catering a wedding for nearly 200ppl, pretty much by myself. So that was fun. But that's done, and now this story is almost done. WEEEEEEEEEE

If Harry had ever paused for a moment and seriously considered dying and the afterlife - it's surprising that he hadn't given the number of attempts on his life already - he didn't really expect it to hurt so much. That was his first thought as he became aware of his body, and the radiating pain from his hand and up his arm.

The second, was that he was surprised it was so damp. And smelly. Perhaps this was purgatory? A friend of Aunt Petunia's had told him about it once, in great detail. And she had been under the impression that he was going to spend quite a bit of time there before he'd be permitted to heaven. Uncle Vernon had scoffed rather loudly at that point and she'd changed the conversation rather quickly.

Slowly, a voice slipped through the fog that had taken a hold of his mind. "Harry, hold on. C'mon now." He tried to groan in response, but the tone of the voice urging him to wake up didn't change and he guessed that his attempt had not been successful.

For a long moment, Harry considered his options. He knew now that he wasn't dead, but Death was waiting. Like a black hole, spiralling outward from the wound in his hand, he could sense the pull. It would be easy to slip through it. Death beckoned, promising an eternity free from Dumbledore's manipulations and plots. Perhaps in death Dumbledore would be forced to find someone else to confront Voldemort.

As the thought unfurled in his mind he felt it sever the pull of the afterlife. How many times now had he survived Voldemort's attempts on his life? Would someone else be so lucky? Someone else may have parents... For a single heartbeat he sought the call of Death, the mother and father he had never known would be waiting for him. It coiled around him, pulling him into its embrace. But he could not, would not, give up and leave someone else to suffer Dumbledore's attempted mentoring.

He groaned again, this time Severus stopped his stream of spells and muttering and grasped Harry firmly by the shoulders. “Harry!” His voice sounded broken and echoed strangely in the now quiet Chamber. He pulled him to his chest and hugged him tightly. After assuring Harry that Draco would recover, and pointing out the pale boy, who looked slightly less ashen, Snape explained what had happened.

Instead of rushing into the Chamber without a plan like a Gryffindor, Severus had sneered in derision at that point of the story. He took a few moments to consider his options, and what the Monster was likely to be. Seeing a large wave of spiders fleeing the castle, he reasoned that it much be a basilisk and set out to find a rooster. All of Hagrid’s had been killed, confirming his suspicions, and he was forced to Floo back to his home to procure one.

He had arrived back at the school to find the door to Chamber already opened, and found Harry duelling with the Basilisk. Conjuring a ball of sunlight, the rooster had crowed immediately upon being released from the bag.

“That sounds… a lot simpler than fighting it with a sword,” Harry coughed weakly as Severus finished. “But what about To-Voldemort?”

Severus stilled a moment, a dark shadow crossing his face. “He thought I had come back to serve him. Was willing to ‘forgive’ me for killing his monster if I would hand you over to him. I didn’t understand, at first. But when I saw the diary… I knew. There are not many things that can survive the Basilisk’s venom.” He smiled weakly, holding up the diary, a fang protruding from the leather cover.

“But then how did I…” Harry looked down at his hand. Only a small, reddish pink circle remained where the creature had bit him.

“Fawkes.” In response to its name, the phoenix cooed lightly, butting its head against Harry affectionately. “The tears of a phoenix can heal almost anything. You should be fine. Once we leave this place.” Severus took Harry’s hand, turning it over and breathing a sigh of relief. “Can you stand, Harry?” Gently tugging on his hand, Severus helped him to his feet, holding him steady as he caught his breath.

Holding Draco between them they limped out of the Chamber and began to make their way up the stairs. A set of footsteps echoed down the hall and Severus snarled, “Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

Harry squinted, pursing his lips as he peered down the hall and tried to make out who it was. “We’ve had worse,” a familiar voice floated down the hall.

“Each,” Severus shot back.

“That hurts,” said the same voice.

“Seeing as we’ve come to help,” a similar voice finished.

Fred and George came into view, illuminated by a pair of lit wands.

“How did you~?” Harry said, sputtering. Fred ignored him, moving to scoop Draco up and cradle him to his chest.

George cast a wary eye on Severus, smiling impishly. “We have… ways. After Mrs. Malfoy ousted Dumbledore as Headmaster…”

Severus made a strange growling noise as Harry shouted, “Mrs. Malfoy is Headmistress?!”

“No,” Severus spoke, his voice ice cold. “She managed to convince the board of governors that Hogwarts was not safe with Albus at the helm. Perhaps the only time I have ever agreed with that power-hungry, conniving bi…” he coughed, as he suddenly realized who he was speaking with.

“She tried, but McGonagall wasn’t having it,” George continued smoothly.

“How did you…”

“Ask us no questions and we’ll tell you no lies,” Fred called over his shoulder as he led them up the damp staircase back towards the castle.

George chuckled and shooed them along. “We’ll take the points off like gentlemen, and call it square.”

They continued up the stairs in silence, until they reached the bathroom. Myrtle was waiting, when she saw them she sighed, shimmering lightly. “Shame…” Her pale eyes scanned the group, resting for a long moment on Draco, still cradled in Fred’s arms. “I would have liked some company.” With a long sigh she floated through the ceiling. 

“Fred, take Draco to the infirmary. Poppy’s bedroom is warded, when you open the door, she’ll know. George, please take Harry to the Slytherin dormitory.” Severus waved his wand and muttered under his breath. “The wards have been adjusted, just this once,” he looked pointedly at the Weasley who had the good sense to look cowed. “To permit you entrance into the bedchambers. Stay with Harry please until I return.” Harry sputtered, but Severus shook his head. “Harry, as few people as possible should know of your involvement in this.” He continued to protest as George gently led him away.

The appearance of a Gryffindor in the Slytherin Common Room caused no small amount of uproar. George narrowly managed to avoid being hit with several hexes as he pushed Harry through the crowd. The bedroom slammed shut with a puff of smoke and George collapsed against it, breathing heavily. 

“You can’t say it would have been any better the other way around,” Harry said, grateful the door had managed to block that last spell.

George pushed away from the door with a smirk, “Just don’t tell Wood about it, he’ll have us doing it every day to hone our reflexes.” Harry grimaced at the thought of Flint employing similar training methods.

He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the bed shift as George sat down beside him. “How did you know? I mean… how did you find us, let alone get out of the Gryffindor Tower?”

“You can thank Hermione for that. Granger,” he clarified at the confused look on the younger boy’s face. “Once we’d figured out where you’d gone – nope I’m not telling you how we did that – we needed a distraction to get out. We don’t have that handy little Cloak of yours. Anyway, she came through in a pinch, needed surprisingly little convincing too. Ronnikins is not going to be happy. But then, no one is going to know, are they?”

Harry listened, but as he sat on the bed with his eyes closed, the words faded to muffles. George kept talking, he appreciated the effort, but it had long since faded to nonsense. Dumbledore had won again. He wasn’t sure if the old man had known it was really Voldemort at the core of the happenings this year. Although, it would not surprise him. But all the same, he had been thrown into a situation he had no business being anywhere near. Despite Snape’s best efforts, the story was going to get around, and he was sure that the much-hated Potions Master’s role would be downplayed, if not erased entirely.


	24. The One With the Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book is done! I hope it's alright. I am sorry it took so long to post this chapter. Had major writer's block, on top of my problems with my hand. But, the book is complete, and I have an appointment with a neurologist to measure the muscle deterioration, so hurray!

“I want to go to the hospital wing.” Harry sat up straight. George looked him over, appraising the younger boy for a moment before nodding.

It was a strange experience, sharing the Invisibility Cloak with the tall Weasley. Harry was short, much shorter than Draco and Pansy, but compared to George? He tried to insist the other boy simply leave.

“They won’t think anything of you leaving, you’re not supposed to be here in the first place,” he protested.

“Harry, I’m hurt.” George placed his hand over his heart, pouting until a smirk stole across his face. “Seriously Harry. If I leave, it’s open season in here. They’re going to want to know where you are, where Draco is, and what happened. Do you want to deal with that? Wait, of course you do! You’re the savior of the wizarding world!” He crossed the room, making to throw open the door dramatically until Harry physically hauled him back by the collar of his shirt. “Blimey Harry, I was only kidding. We’ll make it work, I’m flexible!”

In the end he wound up bent almost double underneath the shimmering fabric as they carefully made their way through the Slytherin dungeon towards the door. It was slow going, but they finally made it to the hospital wing.

They pushed opened the door and ran straight into Dumbledore.

"Ahhh Harry, Draco, Severus... " his voice was calm. "I trust... we do not have to close the school? An interesting story I am sure; I should love to hear it."

"After," Severus snapped, reaching past the Headmaster and pulling the boys towards Draco's bed.

"Of course, of course." Dumbledore swept into the room, standing watch, his sharp blue eyes peering over the top of his half moon glasses. Madame Pomfrey was already tending to Draco. A series of medical runes shimmering over his body as she waved her wand, poking at different symbols and shaking her head and muttering furiously under her breath.

Meanwhile, Harry found himself in clean pyjamas, and lying in a hospital bed between Draco and Severus. The latter had protested strongly at being forced into a bed, but Madame Pomfrey waved her wand at him menacingly and told him to be a good example to the students. He'd relented with a curse, and was propped up against several pillows.

Pomfrey had given Draco a Sleeping Draught, and left one for both Harry and Severus with strict instructions to drink it. With one hand firmly wrapped around each twin’s collar she escorted them out of the room. Harry closed his eyes and reached for the bottle the door closed behind them.

The Headmaster cleared his throat, "Now that you have been seen to... I would like to hear the story."

Before Harry or Draco could answer, Snape spoke up. "The heir of Slytherin, was Tom Riddle, brought to life by a diary, enchanted with some of the darkest magic imaginable."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, "Interesting, and... the boys?"

"The diary possessed Draco, and the Chamber could only be opened by a Parseltongue."

The Headmaster frowned and snatched the diary from Snape turning it over in his hands. "Fascinating. What of the monster?"

"A basilisk, killed."

"I see." Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, the only outward sign that he was irritated by Severus' curt and to the point answers. "Naturally, the Ministry will have a few questions. And a full investigation as to where the diary came from."

"Headmaster?" Madam Pomfrey sounded frazzled as she burst back into the room, slamming the door behind her. "The Minister of Magic is in the Great Hall and he's brought... the press."

"Ahhh, bring them here." Dumbledore straightened.

"Absolutely not This is a hospital! And I am not your secretary." She glared at him., her wiry hair bristling under her cap.

"Right yes, of course. My apologies Poppy. I will meet with them in my office." He swept out of the room without a second glance. 

Madam Pomfrey snatched the vial off Harry’s table and thrust it into his hands. “Drink!” she ordered, folding her arms across his chest and watching him. Her eyes darted over to the untouched potion beside Severus. “I trust I will not have to force feed you Severus?”

Severus’ lip curled, but he reached out and dutifully drank the potion at the same time as Harry. Satisfied, Madam Pomfrey took one final look at the runes that hovered over Draco’s sleeping body before extinguishing all of the candles with a wave of her wand and leaving them be.

The potion did its work well. Harry woke up slowly the next morning after the most uninterrupted sleep he’d ever had. George was perched on the end of his bed, while Fred was curled protectively around Draco – who was awake and talking to his boyfriend softly.

Severus was out of his own bed, reading through the Daily Prophet in a chair pulled up beside Harry’s bed. Despite the newspaper, he was the first to notice Harry had woken up. The Potions Master looked pale, worn. "I'm afraid, you've done it again Harry," he said softly. He folded up the paper and set it aside, but not before Harry had caught the headline.

HARRY POTTER TRIUMPHS AGAIN – SAVES SCHOOL AND FELLOW STUDENT

"I didn’t mean..."

"Of course, you could not leave your friend," Severus glanced over at Draco. "Without your ability with Parseltongue, I am not sure I would have been able to enter the Chamber. And Draco would have died. But why, why did you go alone?"

"You'd told me to stay, I thought you would be there already. And when I got there, and you weren't. I didn't know how long Draco had..."

"I understand," Severus sighed heavily. "But I think you have succeeded in making your life infinitely more complicated. Three times now, you have faced the Dark Lord, and won. Dumbledore will be more determined than ever to mold you into his weapon. You have abilities he will want to control, to suit his own purposes."

Harry sank back against the pillows. "I just want to go to school, hang out with my friends... I don't want..."

"I know, Harry. And to the best of my abilities, I will ensure that is what happens. You have my word I will do what I can to protect you. From my former associates and the media.” He smiled, his thin lips pulling into a wry smile, “There are times I am not entirely certain which one is worse.”

By lunch time Madam Pomfrey reluctantly agreed to let them all go, including Draco. They were given strict warnings to rest. Classes had finished for the year, and due to recent events exams were canceled. 

Over the next few days, Harry and Draco kept to themselves, although thanks to the Daily Prophet the entire school knew just enough of the events in the Chamber to feel entitled to details. Pansy and the others had taken the Mandrake Draught. She, along with Blaise and the twins, did their best to keep them at bay. Finally, the day before the train back to King’s Cross, they managed to sneak out of the castle to a small clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry sat with his back against the tree, his arms wrapped around his leg. Thanks to Snape he'd managed to avoid a press conference, but that hadn't stopped Dumbledore from arranging a meal with the Minister of Magic. Cornelius Fudge was a strange man who seemed to prefer muggle suits to robes, and sported a broiler hat perched jauntily on a bald head. Overall he gave Harry the impression of a cartoon character. But, the meeting was relatively painless. There were plenty of photos, but both men seemed content to talk over Harry. Their conversation reminded Harry of two competitors circling each other before a boxing match, trying to find an opening. He’d managed to slip out just in time to join his friends before dinner.

Pansy and George were engaged in a match of Wizarding chess, apparently the goal wasn't to win, but something about kings and queens he hadn't quite caught. Draco was still looking pale, dark circles under his eyes. Fred had been at his side since the moment he’d left the infirmary. Draco didn't talk much, although he assured them he wasn't missing the diary, or feeling any further effects. He was simply withdrawn and quiet. He was leaning against Fred, his head on the older boy's shoulder.

"I... have something to tell you guys." Draco spoke quietly after having whispered back and forth with Fred for several minutes.

The chess game stopped, and Harry uncurled himself, looking at his friend curiously.

"About where I got the diary."

Harry had long suspected that Draco's story of finding the journal in the library one evening while studying was not exactly true. But he didn't want to push his friend, assuming he'd tell them when he was ready. It seemed, he was ready to talk.

"I stole it, from you Harry." He spoke down to his knees, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. "At your birthday, when Pansy and I were helping you with your gifts. It looked interesting, and felt powerful." He blushed, ducking his head and Fred wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling the frail form against his. He spokes under his breath for a moment and Draco nodded. "I... it was a gift from my parents."

Harry's jaw dropped, "I don't understand."

"The diary, was in with your gifts, from Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

"You can't think..."

"Father, no, of course not. I don't think he knew anything about it. But Mother..." His voice cracked and he turned his head away, hiding tears. Harry scrambled across the blanket, wrapping his arms around his friend and squeezing him tightly.

"Oh Draco, I'm sorry. what are you going to do?"

"I have to tell Father. He and mother are coming for dinner. She wants to reassure the Board of Governors everything has been settled. I don't know what's going to happen.”

With nothing to say, the group sat in silence until the last possible moment. One by one, they wrapped their arms around Draco, hugging him tightly. Fred held his hand until they reached the castle doors, whispering something softly before they parted.

Draco pulled his father aside while they others made their way to their tables. Harry pushed at his food all through dinner, trying to eat around the lump in his throat as he waited for Draco to arrive. Instead, when he returned to his dormitories he found a note on his bed.

HARRY,

I'M SORRY I COULDN'T COME FIND YOU. FATHER'S TAKING ME TO THE CONTINENT, SUPPOSEDLY TO RECOVER. BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I'LL WRITE YOU WHEN I CAN. I PROMISE WE'LL BE BACK BEFORE SUMMER'S OVER AND RESCUE YOU AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!

DRACO

Harry's eyes filled with tears. He couldn't imagine yet another summer stuck at the Dursley's but he couldn't fathom what Draco's mother had done either. Did she know she'd nearly killed her own son? She'd tried to kill him… he wasn't sure he wanted to go to Malfoy Manor while she was there.

He was quiet on the train back to King's Cross, not speaking much except when asked a direct question. The Dursley's were waiting for him, sour expressions on their face.

"What," Vernon sneered, "The bloke who came and picked you up decide he wanted nothing to do with you? Figured out you're just a freak!"

A few of the parents that had gathered looked over, shocked, but no one interfered. as Harry was pulled through the station towards there car. Harry supposed they figured if he could handle a monster and save the school this was nothing for him. He caught sight of the Weasleys. Fred and George looked furious, but their mother was herding the family towards one of the Apparition Points outside of the station, oblivious to anything else.

The bars were back on his window when he was unceremoniously pushed into his bedroom, and he heard the click of a lock as the door closed behind him. He set his trunk at the end of his bed, grateful at least that they seemed to have forgotten about it, and curled up on the bed, pulling his legs to his chest. Maybe, if he was lucky, they'd forget about him for the entire Summer.

As he watched the sun set over Privet Drive he heard the soft squeak of a weight settling on the bed. He turned around to see Dobby, the Malfoy’s house elf, standing on his bed. The ratty towel he’d been wearing at the beginning of the school year had been replaced with a clean green smock. When he caught sight of Harry he bowed.

“Harry Potter!” he squeaked, his large ears bouncing with excitement. “I is here to serve you in any way that I can. To…” he paused, looking uncertain, “To make up for… any misunderstandings.”

“Dobby? How can you?” he kept his voice low, hoping the house elf would follow suit. “How are you allowed to be here?”

“Dobby is Master Draco’s personal elf now. While Master is away and Mistress…” his eyes darted side to side. He looked hesitant.

“I know about Narcissa, it’s okay Dobby,” Harry hurried to explain before he started punishing himself for speaking ill of Mrs. Malfoy. 

Dobby looked relieved, nodding. “There are powerful magics around the house,” he explained. “Dobby cannot be Apparating Harry Potter to go and visit his friends. But Dobby can help Harry Potter however he needs.” He smoothed the front of his smock with his long, spindly fingers, grinning broadly.

Harry couldn’t help but match the grin. Uncle Vernon could put bars on his windows and lock his door. Dumbledore could even ward the house completely – there was no doubt in Harry’s mind who was responsible for magically locking him away – but at least with a house elf he could have some contact with the outside world. Perhaps this summer wouldn’t be quite as bad as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you heaps and heaps to anyone and everyone who has read the series up to this point. Your kudos and comments mean the world to me. There's nothing worse than writing into a void.
> 
> I'm not sure if I will post Book 3 as I write it. Or write/edit the entire thing before I begin posting in order to avoid large gaps mid story. Perhaps fill up the time in between with some little one shots.


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